What the Future Holds
by CaitlynWinchester
Summary: Sam and Dean go to investigate a haunted house, but things get twisted when a local girl warns them to stay away. Limp!Sam, Hurt!Dean, and possibly SamCecilia an original character made up by me.  PREQUEL to Running Out of Time.  COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

All right, hi everyone. In May I finished posting my fanfic _Running Out of Time_, which was about Sam being captured by the Yellow-Eyed Demon. If you're interested, there's a link to it in my signature. That story featured a character named Cecilia Black, and now I am posting the prequel which describes how she came to know our favourite demon hunters. 

In short: Sam and Dean go to investigate a haunted house, but things get twisted when a local girl warns them to stay away. Limp!Sam, Hurt!Dean, and SamCecilia (an original character made up by me). Well, maybe. I'm not a big fan of romances in _Supernatural_.

Anyway, without further, ado, here is Chapter 1. Hope it doesn't start out too slow!

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**Chapter 1**

"You're doing that thing again," Dean remarked from the driver's seat.

His younger brother Sam snapped out of it and looked up. "What?"

"You're doing that thing again," Dean repeated.

"What thing?"

"That thing where you tune me out and don't hear a word I say and stare at nothing with a really weird look on your face. What's wrong with you?"

"Dean," Sam said, "I'm always tuning you our." It was a feeble attempt at a joke, and Dean saw right through it.

"Ha ha," he said. "Seriously, what's wrong?"

Sam chewed on his bottom lip. "I don't know. I just have this weird feeling."

"Oh." Dean was silent for a moment. "Well, what?"

Sam looked at him. "_What,_ what?" he asked.

"This feeling. What is it? Come on. Sam, you're the psychic one, not me. I can't read your mind." After a moment, he added, "And I don't really want to."

Sam sighed. "I don't know, okay? It's really weird. I feel – I don't know – apprehensive, I guess, somehow. Like something's going to happen."

"Hmm. You haven't had any visions, have you?"

"No, Dean. I would've told you."

Dean stayed quiet for a moment. "Want to skip this job?" he asked.

Sam shook his head. "No, we can't do that."

Dean wanted to bang his head on the steering wheel. "Why the hell not?" he asked irritably. "You just said you think something bad's gonna happen if we do it."

Sam shook his head. "No. If we don't do it…" His voice trailed off.

Dean could've thrown something at his brother's head at that point. "What? What if we don't do it?" Hell, he had an easier tine figuring our what Sam's visions were about!

"I don't know," Sam said again. "Something even worse will happen. If we don't go."

Dean sighed. "Okay. Whatever. We'll go." He paused. "Just stop zoning out, all right? It's creepy."

"Thanks," Sam said sarcastically.

"No problem," Dean replied.

Sam went back to brooding and Dean concentrated on the road, but the silence was almost tangible between them. Dean flicked on the radio.

Sam sighed almost angrily, but he didn't say anything. Dean wanted to throw something at him. "What is your problem, Sam?"

"Nothing."

Dean gave up. He didn't feel like trying to reason with Sam while he was on one of his bitchy moods. He turned up the music a little louder and ignored his brother.

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"Well, we're here," Dean said, turning down the music so Sam could hear him. Sam was staring out the window, but he didn't seem to see it. Dean clenched his jaw. "Sam." 

The younger Winchester started. "What?"

"_Where_ is your head? I was talking to you."

Sam blinked. "Sorry. I was thinking."

"Obviously. What about?"

Sam shrugged. After the long and awkward drive, Dean didn't feel like getting into anything with him. "All right. Whatever."

Sam yawned and it was only then that Dean noticed how tired he really looked. "Sam, have you been sleeping?"

"What? No – Look, I'm sorry I didn't hear you talking, I was just deep in thought."

"No, forget about that. I'm not talking about that anymore," Dean said impatiently. "I mean, have you been sleeping lately? You look exhausted."

"Oh." Sam fell silent.

Dean waited for his younger brother to say something, but he stayed quiet. "Well?" he prompted.

An irritated sigh from Sam let Dean know that his brother was not in the mood to discuss his disturbingly irregular sleeping habits. "Dean, stop worrying, okay? I'm all right."

"So you _haven't_ been sleeping, lately?"

"Dean –"

"Sam." Dean glanced at his brother. "I don't know you're lying to me. I can tell, you know that, right? You look tired, you're bitchy, and you're completely avoiding the subject." Sam didn't say anything. "Seriously, what's up with you? What's bothering you?"

Sam sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "I don't know. I've just been so stressed lately. I just can't shake this feeling that something really bad is going to happen."

"Okay, I get that, all right?" Dean tried to figure out what he was trying to say. "But you're in a daze, Sam – you're not listening to a thing I say. You zone out like that during a hunt and you're dead meat. That 'really bad thing' you keep talking about is gonna be your – He stopped.

"I know," Sam said. He paused. "Sorry."

"I'm not mad," Dean replied. "You just scare me sometimes, Sammy."

"Sam."

Dean smiled, relieved that, for now, Sam was back to normal.

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Hope you liked it! I will update soon. :) 


	2. Chapter 2

OK, so here is Chapter 2, everybody! Glad you like it so far. Thanks everyone for the reviews! They are always very much appreciated.

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Chapter 2

"All right," Dean began, "well, it sounds like a regular case – a vengeful spirit. Dangerous from the sound of it, though."

"Why? How many people have died?" Sam was staring out the window of the hotel, but at least he was paying attention.

"Well, no one for certain," Dean replied, flipping through a local newspaper. "But people disappear. I guess they go into this place and never come out."

"A haunted house? You gotta be kidding me, Dean. Can't we do any better than that?"

"That's the thing," Dean said, circling something in the newspaper, and then sticking the end of the pen in his mouth. "It's more than just local lore. People actually do go missing."

"And we know for certain that they went into this house?" Sam was still sceptical.

"Umm, out of the last five cases…two of them were actually last seen going into this place." Dean folded the newspaper back up.

"And before that?"

Dean shrugged. "I don't know."

Sam finally pulled his gaze from the window. "I don't know, Dean. People disappear. If there's no concrete evidence that it's a spirit taking these people, then how are we supposed to separate the normal disappearances from the – _so-called_ – supernatural ones?"

"Sam," Dean said patiently, "we've been through this before. Maybe it's nothing. We've checked out less."

Sam nodded and stayed quiet. "Why are you so tense?" Dean asked. "Just relax. If you're not having visions, why are you so worried?"

The younger brother sighed. "I don't know," he said. "I just can't shake this feeling."

"Is that why you haven't been sleeping?"

Sam shot Dean a dirty look, but he answered him. "Yeah."

"There, was that so hard?" Dean stood up. "Why don't you just tell me things?"

"You never tell _me_ anything," Sam reminded him.

"That's beside the point. Let's go."

Sam didn't move. "Where?"

"Library. They should have lots of old newspapers on the computers there."

Sam sighed and stood up. "All right, whatever. I'm coming." He started to follow Dean out the door.

"We may as well look into the history of your supposed haunted house while we're there," Sam said as he locked the motel room door. "See if anything happened there or something."

"I don't care. Doesn't matter to me."

"Okay. Come on." Dean pulled his car keys out of his pocket. He turned to look at his brother.

Sam had stopped moving, his eyes wide, an almost scared look on his face. "Sam?"

Sam blinked and Dean saw him gulp. "I'm…okay. I just…"

"Weird feeling?" Dean bit his lip. This was too weird for words.

"Yeah…but I got a chill, too. It was…weird."

"Okay." Dean pulled his brother forward. "Everything is weird about this, all right? We'll figure it out. Come one."

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There ya go, folks! Hope you liked it:) 


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry for not updating, things got a little busy. (coughtcoughHarryPottercough). Anyway, thanks for replying! Here is Chapter 3...short and extremely strange...I'll update soon to make up for it, though. **

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**Chapter 3**

Voices. Voices. Somewhere near, people were talking. Voices. How many? She couldn't tell. _Oh, God._ She thought her head was going to split in half. _Make it stop, oh, God, make it stop._ She'd never felt pain like this before in her life.

She could still hear voices, somewhere – behind her? No – she couldn't tell where they were coming from. _This makes no sense._ They were louder, now – but still fuzzy and unrecognizable.

A fresh wave of pain cracked through her body like lightning. _Oh, dear God, I can't take much more of this._ She'd had headaches before – but this…

She forced her eyes open, even though the pain throbbing in her head was almost blinding her. _Get up. Just keep going._

She blinked the black spots away and unsteadily got to her feet. Where was she? And, oh, God, where were those voices coming from? _Please, please, make it stop._

A door. She could see a door. She blinked, staring at it, knowing she'd seen it before. Oh, God, yes, she _had_ seen it before. But…where?

She reached for the doorknob, but instinct told her look down. _Oh, dear God, no_, she thought, as blood trickled out from beneath the door, pooling around her shoes. _No. Please, no._

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Sorry the chapter was kinda...weird...I'll update soon! 


	4. Chapter 4

Okay, everyone, here is Chapter 4. We get back to something fairly normal after the last, freaky, chapter. lol. Anyway, here it is!

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**Chapter 4**

"Okay," Sam said, "this is just too weird." He looked, frowning, at the notes he'd taken over the past few hours. "Most of the time, it started out as a bunch of idiots daring someone or other to go into the house. Then they'd just never come back out. No screaming, no struggles, no trying to run back out of the house. They just…disappeared."

"So you're starting to believe me now, eh?" Dean pulled the pen he was chewing on out of his mouth. "Told ya there was something weird going on."

Sam shot him a dirty look. "Yeah, whatever." He shuffled the many sheets and squinted at what he'd written. "But then there's more than one report of people going into the damn place and coming out perfectly fine."

Dean chewed on the inside of his cheek. "Can you see any sort of pattern at all?"

Sam started to scribble again. "Hang on."

Dean sighed and leaned back in the uncomfortable library chair. God, he hated this part of a job. Sam obviously didn't mind being in a library for four hours straight, poring over book after book, but some days it drove him absolutely crazy.

"It's every four years," Sam said abruptly, dropping his pen. "Every leap year. Look." He shoved the paper at Dean.

Dean took it and scanned the page. Sam must have written the years when people disappeared. Sure enough, each year listed was a leap year. 2004, 2000, 1996, 1992, 1984, 1980, 1976, 1972, 1968, 1960, 1956. He frowned. "There's two years missing," he pointed out. "1988 and 1964."

Sam took the sheet back and looked back at his notes. "No one disappeared those years, as far as I can tell," he said. "I wonder why?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "We'll figure it out. Come on, let's go. I'm tired of this."

"You've barely done anything," Sam said.

"I've been working hard. I can tell you the whole history of that damn house."

"Oh, yeah?" Sam folded his arms and glared challengingly across the table at his brother.

Dean pulled the closest book to him so he could read it. "It's really good," he informed Sam. "It was built in 1933 and it stayed in the possession of the same family until 1907. That's when the last descendant sold it."

"Wow," Sam said. "I'm impressed."

"Oh, wait, there's more." Dean pulled another book forward. "It bounced around from family to family until the MacDowells bought it in 1949. This is where it gets interesting." Sam raised an eyebrow. "From what I can tell, they were a pretty normal family. Mom, Dad, three daughters, two sons."

"Dean," Sam said, "I'm finding all this just as fascinating as you are, but is it really relevant?"

"God, you're impatient." Dean flipped forward a few pages. "Just listen, will you? Okay, so everything worked out great until 1952. On February 29 – the leap year," he added with a meaningful look at Sam, "the youngest girl, Lucy, turned 12. Actually, she really only turned…" His voice trailed off as he tried to calculate it.

"Three," Sam said wearily.

"Yeah, that. Anyway, she disappeared."

He saw Sam starting to pay attention now. "She disappeared?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah. In here it says she was walking home from school when she was nabbed. There was one witness, but he wasn't really much help. He got the license plate of the car he saw, but it was found later abandoned."

"So did they find Lucy?" Sam asked, rising and going to Dean's side of the table. He frowned down at the book Dean was reading from.

"No," Dean replied. "But a few weeks later the entire MacDowell family was found murdered at that house."

Sam's eyes widened. "Wow."

"Yeah," Dean agreed. "So I'm thinking it's Lucy. She was probably kidnapped and murdered, and came back to finish off her family…maybe because they couldn't save her?"

"Now if someone wanders into her old home on a leap year…" Sam didn't finish.

Dean nodded. "Hey, Sam, do you have the dates of when those people disappeared?"

Sam went back to his seat and skimmed through his notes. "Some of the more recent ones have dates, but not all of them."

"Is there another pattern other than the years?" Dean asked. Sam went over the dates again and nodded.

"They're all in February," he said, sounding slightly awed.

"Ghost Girl's killing people in her birthday month," Dean said. Suddenly, a sour look came over his face. "Oh, come on!"

Sam looked around. "What?"

Dean shook his head. "Lucy MacDowell was never found," he reminded Sam. As far as we know, there are no remains to destroy."

Sam sighed. "Right." He paused. "That sucks."

Dean slammed the book shut. "So I guess we have two options," he reasoned. "We could keep digging and try to solve a fifty-year-old mystery, or we could just, like, torch the place and hope the spirit goes with it."

Sam frowned. "Yeah. I guess so." He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment. "Let's check out the house first, though, all right?"

Dean smirked. "Told ya there was something weird going on."

Sam glared at him. "You already said that."

Dean kept smirking. "I know."

Sam glanced at his watch. "It's almost dark," he remarked. "And I'm getting hungry. Let's get something to eat and head back to the motel. We can check the house out tomorrow."

Still laughing, Dean closed his other books and took off. Sam stacked his books in a neat pile and gathered up his papers before following his brother out the library door.

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Love? Hate? Let me know! 


	5. Chapter 5

So here is Chapter 5! Thanks everyone for the reviews - they are always appreciated. :)**

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**Chapter 5**

"I felt like a stalker."

Cassie Morgan pulled a box of chocolate chip cookies from the cupboard and took off the elastic band that held it closed. "You weren't stalking him, you were just…"

Cecilia Black sighed and grabbed the cookies from her roommate's hands. "I was just talking him," she finished for her.

Cassie narrowed her eyes and took a cookie from the box. "Okay. So you're a stalker. When are you actually going to talk to him?"

Cecilia rested her chin on her hand. "I don't know. I don't know anything about him. For all I know, he could be a psycho stalker murderer."

"Good. Then you two will make a great couple," Cassie joked.

Cecilia glared at her.

"I was just kidding!"

Cecilia blew her dark hair out of her eyes. "What should I _do_?"

Cassie sighed. "You really want to know what I think you should do?" Cecilia nodded. "I think you should suck it up and go talk to that guy before something bad happens."

"What if he thinks I'm crazy?" Cecilia pushed the cookies away, suddenly no longer hungry.

"Well, then that's his problem, isn't it?" Cassie said. "All right, stalker, what do you know about him?"

Cecilia shot her a dirty look, but sat up straight in her chair. "I can't really get that close to him," she sighed, "but his name is Dane or Dean or something. He's always with this other guy –"

Cassie snorted. "Are you serious?"

Cecilia rolled her eyes. "Yes, Cassie, I'm serious. He's always with this other guy. They're staying at the Montmorency Motel downtown and so far I've seen him there, two different diners, and the library."

Cassie tipped her head to one side. "Okay, I lied before. You _were_ stalking him."

Cecilia shoved her chair back from the table and stood up, starting to pace. "I can't just walk up to him and be like, 'Hi, I keep dreaming about you, even though we've never met before now. So can you please not do whatever it is that's going to get you killed, because I'm tired of waking up thinking I'm covered in your blood?' "

Cassie frowned. "Have you actually _seen_ this guy in your dreams so far?"

Cecilia looked away sheepishly. "Well, no. But the moment I say him the other day, I knew it was him."

Cassie sighed and looked with exasperation at her friend. "You haven't even _seen_ the guy in your dreams?"

Cecilia bit the inside of her cheek. "You know I can't help what I do or don't see, Cassie. Just trust me, all right? I'm the psychic one, not you."

Cassie shook her head. "You're such a freak." She paused. "Well, is he at least hot?"

Cecilia couldn't keep a smile off her face. "Yeah." She thought for a moment. "They both are, actually."

Cecilia started to laugh. "Wow. This is different."

Cecilia looked at her. "What?"

Still giggling, Cassie said, "Lucky you. You get to save not one, but _two_ hot guys from certain death."

"It's not really that funny," Cecilia said. But she started to laugh, too, for Cassie's sake. _Let's hope I can save him,_ she though. _Please, let me save him._

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So there it is, Chapter 5! Hope everyone liked it:) 


	6. Chapter 6

Thanks for the reviews everyone. They make me happy. Anyway, proceed to Chapter 6...OMGsomethingimportanthappens!**

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**Chapter 6**

"So this is it," Sam remarked, stepping out of the Impala onto the old, cracked stone driveway of the old MacDowell home. He stared up at it. "Wow, it is creepy, isn't?"

"Meh," Dean replied. "I've seen worse."

"Whatever," Sam said. "Come on, let's explore the grounds before we go inside."

Dean gave his brother a sideways look. "Sam, are you afraid to go inside the place?"

Sam shuffled his feet. "No, I'm not."

Dean frowned at him. "What is going on with you? I mean, I've seen you act weird before, but this is…really weird. You're not sleeping, you rarely eat anything, you don't talk much, and now you're scared to go into a haunted house. We've faced things a thousand times worse than this, Sam."

"I know, I just…" He stopped. "I'm fine, all right? Let's just go."

Dean hesitated, ready to pick a fight. But he just sighed. "All right. Whatever."

A look of relief passed over Sam's face. "Okay. You go right. I'll go left." He pointed to show where he meant. Dean, however, shook his head.

"I don't know, Sam. You sure that's gonna be safe?"

Sam nodded. "No one disappeared until they went _inside_ the house, remember? I think we'll be okay."

Dean nodded. "Okay. Yell if you see something. _At all._" He took off towards the right side of the MacDowell house.

Sam swallowed, feeling nervousness in the pit of his stomach. He wasn't sure letting Dean go by himself was such a good idea. He bit his tongue in an effort to stop himself from calling his brother back. _Nothing's going to happen to him._

He swallowed the odd feelings of fear and headed towards the house. He had chosen the side of the house near a small forested area. If anything was going to happened, it was more likely to come out of the trees.

He wasn't quite sure why he thought something was going to happen. The nervous feeling he was now always carrying around increased tenfold when he and Dean were separated. He didn't know whether it was habitual paranoia, or an actually premonition of some sort, but it was really unnerving him.

Sam slowed as he got nearer to the trees and felt a chill go down his back. Why did he get the funny feeling that something was watching him?

He shook it off and kept going. This was getting stupid. He'd faced things like demons, things like freaking homicidal clowns, and now he was jumpy getting near a small forest?

Suddenly Sam froze again. "Oh, God!" A tidal wave of icy cold air washed over him. He couldn't breathe. His entire body hurt. "Dean!" he managed to cry out, his chest compressing painfully as he struggled to draw breath. _Oh God. Oh God._

All of a sudden, he could breathe again. He blinked the black spots out of his eyes. Why was it still so cold?

In an instant everything changed. For one split second that seemed to last a lifetime, he couldn't breathe again and his body threatened to die right then and there as the cold became unbearable. He looked around as his breath returned to him.

Sam was shocked to find he hadn't moved. He was still in the same place he'd been standing before…what had happened?

Wait – everything was different. He blinked. Everything around him seemed…blurry. Out of focus. Almost unreal. _Did I die?_ he wondered suddenly.

Another wave of icy cold wind overwhelmed him and he dropped to his knees. God, what was going on? He thought of the disappearances connected to the MacDowell house. _Is this what happens to them?_

He looked up, suddenly aware of another presence. _Who's there?_ The words formed in his mind, but he couldn't call out. He turned his head, knowing someone else was there.

She was standing behind him, her eyes boring into his. He forced himself to his feet and backed away, swallowing hard. He wanted to look away, call for Dean again, but he found he couldn't tear his gaze from hers. He felt is breath catch in his chest.

He didn't need any confirmation to know that he was facing the spirit of Lucy MacDowell. He felt sick with fear.

"Sam?" Somewhere far away, he could hear Dean calling his name. "Sam!"

Suddenly Lucy, who had been slowly approaching him, stopped and turned away. Sam followed her gaze.

A girl with long, dark brown hair, and wide frightened eyes. Sam stared at her in shock. Who the hell was she? Another spirit? He felt sick again.

Lucy's ghost was slowly moving towards the girl, and judging by the terrified look on her face, she was not a spirit, too. _Oh, God_, Sam thought. _Is Lucy going to kill her?_

He managed to start to go after Lucy, but a sudden weakness forced him back to his knees. He saw the already fuzzy world spin around him.

He looked up and saw that Lucy had reached the other girl, who had backed away until her back was pressed against a tree. The spirit reached out slowly, her fingers nearly grazing the girl's skin.

"SAM!" A panicked yell from his brother suddenly broke the spell, and Sam fell back into reality. He could hear him own raspy, irregular breathing.

"What the hell happened to you?" Dean asked angrily. "What did she do to you?"

"There's someone in there," Sam gasped, almost choking on the words. "There's a girl…in the woods. I saw her." He forced himself to his feet.

Dean yanked him back. "Are you crazy?" he demanded furiously. "You saw the damn ghost and now you want to _follow_ it?"

"No," Sam said, finally catching his breath. "No, there's a girl in the woods. She's there. I saw her."

"Jesus Christ, Sam, calm down." Dean held his arms tightly. "What the hell happened?"

"I don't know, okay? We'll figure it out later. But there's some girl in the woods and I saw Lucy going after her –"

He broke away from his brother's grasp and shot off towards the trees. He heard Dean start to run behind him, yelling for him to stop. Sam ran faster, knowing what he had seen.

He dashed past the treeline, feeling a stray branch whip him in the face. He wasn't crazy; he wasn't going mad. He knew he hadn't imagined the girl in the creepy alternate reality that Lucy had thrown him into.

Sam felt his breath catch in his chest. There she was, still pressed against a tree, her eyes still terrified. "Hey!" Sam yelled, heading towards where he knew the spirit was standing, even though he couldn't see her anymore. The girl blinked and slid down, released from whatever mental prison Lucy put her victims into.

Sam knelt by the girl, his heart racing. "Are you okay?" he asked, trying not to pant.

She looked up at him with huge, wide dark eyes. "You were there, too," she gasped. "I saw you."

He nodded. "Yeah. I saw you too. Are you all right?"

She kept staring at him. "I think so." Then she said, "Who the hell are you?" Dean ran over, his face slightly panicked. "And, more importantly, who the hell is he?"

Sam looked up at his brother, but at that moment, he felt the girl slump over. He caught her before she fell completely horizontal, and stared down at her, wondering who the hell _she_ was.

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Yay! Cliffhangers love. Except on the real TV show. Or any TV show. Or any movie. Or any other fanfic. :P

More to come soon:) 


	7. Chapter 7

So hey everyone, back again. Sorry I don't update regularly...I usually either forget or am just too lazy to do it.

Anyway, here's Chapter 7. Hope you like it!

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**Chapter 7**

Cecilia sat up dizzily, not quite sure why she was lying down in wet grass in what appeared to be a forest. _What the hell?_ She blinked her vision into focus. _Oh, dear God._ She remembered what had happened as she saw the two people hovering over her.

"I guess you're not as 'all right' as you thought," said the one with the longer hair. The unimportant one. The one who wasn't going to die.

"What?" she asked, confused. She vaguely recalled a short conversation with him before she fainted. She blinked. "Oh. What the hell happened?"

"I'd like to know that same thing," the one with short hair said tartly. "Care to explain, Sam?" He glared at the longer-haired one.

Sam shifted uncomfortably, but Cecilia scrutinized the other one – Dane, Dan, Dean, whoever he was – finally able to see him properly after shadowing him since she first saw him. She watched him as he continued to stare angrily at Sam, committing his face to memory. So this was the man she had to save, close-up.

She looked up expectantly at Sam, who still hadn't said anything. "Who are you?" she asked tiredly. Gosh, was not how she had imagined meeting these two.

They glanced at each other before answering. "I'm Dean, and this is my brother, Sam." So it was Dean, then. She nodded.

"I'm Cecilia Black," she said. "Nice to meet you. I guess."

"What the hell were you doing out here?" Dean asked, sounding angry.

_Stalking you._ "I walk through here all the time."

He narrowed his eyes. "The local myths about this house don't bother you?"

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on, there's no such thing as –" _Ghosts._ She felt her heart drop into her stomach. "Oh…God…"

She stared up at them, feeling a sensation of cold crawl over her body. "Was…was that little girl…What was she?"

They didn't answer, only stared back. The anger had faded from Dean's face, to be replaced with an expression of almost sadness to match his brother's.

"Oh, you've _got_ to be kidding me," she whispered.

"I know you saw her," Sam said softly. Cecilia shook her head.

"This is unbelievable," she muttered.

"Believe it," Dean said harshly. "And it may be a good idea to find a new place for your daily walk."

"Dean," Sam said sharply, "come on."

_I try to go and save this guy's life_, she thought incredulously, _and I run into a goddamn ghost. Absolutely unbelievable._

God _damn_ it, why couldn't I just be easy?

"What were _you_ doing on the MacDowell property?" she asked them. They glanced at each other again.

"We heard the legends and thought it would be interesting to see the place."

She rubbed her arms, trying to keep warm, unable to forget the feeling of terror and hopelessness she'd had as that little girl approached her. "But you're not going to go back there now, are you?"

"Oh. For sure not," Sam said. But she saw his gaze slide back to his brother's.

Her heart nearly stopped. That he was lying was all too obvious. "You – you can't go back! I mean – you saw that thing! And you've heard that stories! It's dangerous!"

"Actually," said Dean, "I didn't see it."

Cecilia stared at him, and out of the corner of her eye she saw that Sam was doing the same. "You didn't?" she asked.

"Then how'd you know that something was wrong with me?" Sam asked blankly. "I mean, I wasn't –"

"You were staring at nothing like it was about to kill you," Dean interrupted. "You've had some petty weird episodes before, Sammy, but being terrified of thin air isn't something you do normally." He paused. "Even for a freak."

Cecilia rubbed her temples. This didn't make any sense. If Dean couldn't see the ghost, then it couldn't hurt him, let alone kill him – so why was she dreaming about his death?

She stood up, reading to scream with frustration. She looked around nervously. "Is that thing going to come back at all?" Her stomach flipped at the thought.

They shrugged. They obviously knew as much as she did. "You sure you're all right this time?" Sam asked. He reached over to ouch her arm, just in case.

Cecilia gasped as a feeling she'd never felt before flashed through her body. No, not just her body – her mind, her consciousness, her soul. There was no word for it – it was a mix of every horrible feeling a person could feel – she nearly doubled over as a wave of painful, raw hopelessness crashed over her. One thought stuck out in her mind: _I am going to die._

It was over in an instant that lasted a lifetime, and she backed away from him, scared. She stared up at him. "Are you okay? What's wrong?" he asked.

She shook her head and took another step back, afraid to let him touch her again. "I'm fine."

_Cassie was right._ Dean wasn't the only she had to save – his brother was in danger, too.

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Yay for updates. Enjoy! 


	8. Chapter 8

Hey everyone! Sorry there was a huge gap between updates. :( I got busy.

Anyway, here is Chapter 8. Cecilia gives her first warning and something _unexpected_ happens.

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**Chapter 8**

"Nice car," Cecilia remarked as she approached a beat-up looking 1967 Chevy Impala. It was a struggle to act normal after everything that had happened. She couldn't believe she was actually pulling it off.

"Thanks." Dean glanced back at her as he replied, the car apparently being his, but the look in his eyes said he was both suspicious of and creeped out by her. She shifted her feet uncomfortably.

"You don't have to do this, you know," she told them, almost reluctant to get into the car. "I mean, I walked here. I can walk back."

"No, it's fine, really," Sam said quickly. "After all that, it's probably better that you don't walk home."

She suddenly had a chill as she recalled the appearance of the ghost. "Was…it really a ghost?" she asked quietly.

They both nodded. Cecilia was suddenly infinitely glad that they had offered to drive her home. She shivered.

Sam opened the door for her, and she slid into the back seat. "Thank you," she said.

"Just stay out of the MacDowell place, all right?" Dean's voice was harsh. "You know that it's dangerous now."

"Okay. I get it. I'll stay away. You will, too, right?"

"Yeah." She still didn't believe him, but it didn't really matter. She could break promises, too.

"Where do you live?" Sam asked as he got into the passenger seat. He was watching her in the rear view mirror, she noticed. She squirmed under his intense gaze.

Cecilia gave them her address and stared out the window. She couldn't believe what a freakish turn this day had taken.

"So what exactly did Lucy's spirit do to you?" Sam asked. Cecilia pulled her gaze away from the landscape whipping by. He was still looking at her, she noticed, but his gaze was now less intense.

"Lucy's spirit? Who's Lucy?" God, what freaks these guys were.

"Lucy MacDowell. Her spirit haunts her old home," Sam explained.

"How would you know that?" A sudden, nervous flutter in her stomach let her know that there was more to Dean and Sam than met the eye. She swallowed hard.

"It's…We read up on the place before we visited. What did she do to you?"

Cecilia sighed, realizing she wouldn't get any more of an answer than that. "I'm not sure. She was just about to touch my face when you ran into the clearing."

"Did she try to hurt you?"

Cecilia frowned. "I don't know. It's all really hard to remember. I'm not sure."

Sam nodded, but he didn't say anything else. The awkwardness in the car was almost tangible. She was glad the ride to her apartment building was fairly short.

When they finally got there, she hesitated before getting out of the car. Suddenly the half-a-minute walk to the front doors and the lonesome elevator ride seemed ominous. She shivered.

"Do you want me to walk you to your apartment?" asked Sam, seeming to read her thoughts. She blushed, embarrassed, but nodded.

"If you don't mind…"

The atmosphere was awkward as they walked, but the farther away they got from the car, the less awkward it seemed to get. For some reason, she felt at ease with Sam Winchester. Which was utterly absurd, of course. If anyone at all, she should feel a connection to Dean – the one she had to save.

"I can't believe what happened today," Cecilia said, hugging herself to keep warm.

"Believe it." Sam's voice wasn't harsh, simply matter-of-fact. "Did you believe in ghosts before?"

"No. Well, yes. Kind of. I don't know." She surprised herself with the honest answer.

"So believe it." Sam glanced at her with a small smile. "I don't think you're as surprised as you come across."

"What makes you say that?" Cecilia asked, slightly irked.

"Well, usually when someone realizes ghosts are real…I mean," he said hastily, "you'd think that there'd be a lot more denying it, and…you know."

She frowned at him. "Mmm hmm." There was certainly a lot he wasn't telling her.

Silence fell again as they reached the elevator inside. Cecilia took a deep breath. "I have to say something."

He looked at her, surprised. "Okay…"

"I know I'm going to sounds like I'm crazy," she began, "but please, just take my word for it. Trust me when I say it's not a good idea for you to go back into that house."

His brow furrowed. "We haven't been inside it yet." His eyes widened in alarm as he realized he'd tacked an extra word onto his sentence.

"_Yet._ So you _were_ planning on going back." She glared at him. "_Why?_"

He sighed. "It's long and complicated and there's no reason for you to get involved. Don't worry about us."

"You don't understand," Cecilia said angrily as the elevator shuddered to a stop and they stepped out. "I –" She stopped as a door opened down the hallway. _Oh dear God. It's Mrs. Lavergne._ The cranky old lady had three pet peeves: Cassie Morgan, Cecilia Black, and people who were loud in the hallway outside her apartment. Cecilia didn't know why Mrs. Lavergne had a personal vendetta against her, but now was not the time for pondering it: she was Cecilia Black and she'd been talking loudly, and was therefore on Mrs. Lavergne's immediate hit list.

Acting on instinct, without thinking, she grabbed Sam's arms and with strength she didn't know she possessed, whirled around so his back was to Mrs. Lavergne and she was hidden by his tall, built frame. She only hesitated a moment before standing on the tips of her toes to kill him as hard as she could.

He didn't try to pull away, as she'd expected, and felt her heart start to race as she realized that he was kissing her back.

A moment later, she heard the door close, and pulled away from Sam. She stared up at him. God, he had nice eyes.

A ripple of fear and embarrassment surged through her body, and she stepped back. "Please, stay out of the MacDowell house," she gasped. She turned away, not trusting herself to be around him any longer. "Please." She heard him start to say something, but she rushed away before she could decipher a word.

* * *

So...how does everyone feel about it? Let me know:)

-Caitlyn


	9. Chapter 9

Hey everyone! OK, so I'm going away for the weekend, just to let you know. Not that it has much effect on how often I update, seeing as I take a long time to do, but I thought I'd just say it. So yeah. 

Yay Chapter 9!

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**Chapter 9**

"What's with you?" Dean asked, seeing the look on Sam's face right away as he got into the car. "What'd she do to you?"

Sam stared out the window and didn't answer. He wasn't even quite sure what had happened himself. "Uh…"

"Spit it out, Sam. God, you've been acting weird lately."

Sam glanced at him. "She, uh, kissed me." Dean's head spun around as he turned to look at him.

"_What?_"

Sam nodded his head. "Yeah. I think she was just trying to avoid getting yelled at by some old lady who came into the hallway. But…yeah."

Dean was staring at him. "Are you serious?"

"Why would I lie?" Sam couldn't keep the irritated out of his voice. "Whatever. It's nothing."

"You're not acting like it's nothing," Dean remarked. There was an undertone of laughter in his voice. "How the hell did that happen anyway? Did she just, like, jump on you, or something?"

"No, Dean," Sam said irritably, "she didn't jump on me."

"Well, why'd she kiss you, then?" Dean didn't seem to be able to wrap his head around it.

"I don't know, okay? If you care so much, why don't you go ask her yourself?"

"No thanks. _I'm_ not into her." Sam could see his brother glancing at him out of the corner of his eye. "You are, though, aren't you?"

Sam sighed and turned to stare out the window. "Can we not talk about this?"

"All right." The humour faded from Dean's voice. "How about we talk about what happened earlier, huh? And why I came running to save your ass, yet again, and found you in a complete trance?"

Sam glared at him, but he wasn't in the mood to argue. "I don't know what happened there."

"But you saw Lucy's spirit, right? She was there?"

Sam looked at him thoughtfully. "Yeah, I did. I wonder why you couldn't see her, though. Don't you think that's a little weird?"

"Weird is our job, remember, Sam?" Dean shruygged. "Maybe it's because of the psychic thing?"

"Well, what about Cecilia? I mean, if she was one of us – I mean, one of the special children or whatever – don't you think I'd know?"

"Not necessarily," Dean said. "Remember Ansem Weems? We never knew he was a freak until we looked him up."

Sam sighed. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

Dean moved on. "What did Lucy do?" he asked. "I mean, she, like, hypnotized you or something, Sam – I seriously thought you were, like, catatonic or something, the way you were –"

"She didn't do anything to me," Sam interrupted, not caring to hear about it. "I mean, at first, I couldn't breathe, and I was freezing cold the whole time, but other than that, she didn't do anything to me. She came towards me but it was like she changed her mind and went to Cecilia instead. That's how I knew she was there."

Dean seemed to be chewing on the tip of his tongue, thinking. "Hmm."

"But it was weird, you know?" Sam continued when Dean didn't respond. "Remember how the spirits of the patients in the Roosevelt Asylum only wanted to communicate, not hurt anyone?" He felt slightly guilty, bringing up the hunt that had resulted in him nearly killing Dean, but it was the best he could some up with at the moment. "It was like that."

"You're right," Dean said. "This _is_ weird." He sighed and looked out the window. "Now we have more questions to answer: Is Lucy killing those people? If not, who is?"

"Why can only some people see her?" Sam muttered.

"And," Dean added, with a glance at his younger brother, "why is appearing to people and putting them into freaking trances?"

"I'm not sure I was in a trance, Dean," Sam said, looking out the window. "I was aware of everything that was going on."

"Yeah, but you didn't see yourself," Dean replied. "If you weren't in a trance, then it was something really close."

Sam didn't respond for a minute. "It was weird though –""

"How many times have you said that word now?"

"– _because_," Sam continued, shooting his brother a dirty look, "I was, like, _there_, but everything was…"

"Weird?" Dean put in with a smirk.

Sam glared at him. "Yeah, I guess so. I could see, you know, everything around me, but it was all, I don't know, blurry or something, like it wasn't real."

Dean frowned. "That is…weird."

They drove in silence for a while, thinking. Then, Dean said, "So she just randomly _kissed_ you?" Sam shot him another furious look. "Well, you two are both freaks. You make a good match."

"Thanks," Sam said sarcastically, and hopped out of the car as soon as Dean stopped in the parking lot.

* * *

Hope you liked it! 


	10. Chapter 10

Yay! Back from our trip. Sorry for the delay in updating. But here's Chapter 10. :)**

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**

**Chapter 10**

"What's wrong with you?" Cassie rose from the chair where she'd been watching TV. "You look like you just saw a ghost."

Cecilia started to laugh even though it wasn't that funny. "Oh, you have no idea," she said. Cassie looked alarmed.

"Cecilia…are you okay?" She took a step back.

"I'm _great_," Cecilia said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "So I finally met them today." For some reason, she felt like breaking out into laughter again. "You have no idea how messed up my day was."

"Are you on drugs?" Cassie asked tentatively, still wary of the wild look in Cecilia's eyes.

"Ha! I wish I was. It would be easier."

Cassie stared at her at her and moved slowly forward. "All right. Tell me about it." She swallowed hard, and Cecilia knew that she'd scared her friend.

"You'll never believe me," she said. "But I finally met them. _That's_ not what you won't believe. But yeah. So they're basically nuts. They're going to back in that goddamn house, and Dean is gonna die, and I have no idea how to stop it. Oh, and they're not gay. They're brothers." She sank into a chair with an anguished sigh. "I feel like such an idiot."

Cassie stared at her and blinked. "Okay," she said slowly. "Why don't you start at the beginning and tell me everything that happened to you today? You're scaring me."

Cassie shrugged. "Oh, well. It's happened before, and believe me…it'll happen again." Her smile faded as she realized how ominous that sounded. A sharp, black fear settled into the pit of her stomach. Somehow, she knew that the words she'd spoken were true.

She saw Cassie gulp. "Okay, stop it," she said. "I _hate_ it when you talk like that."

Cecilia smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm not trying to creep you out. Sometimes that just happens. I'm sorry."

"I know," Cassie sighed. "I live with you, remember?"

Cecilia nodded. "If I tell you completely seriously, not joking – will you believe me, even if it sounds crazy?"

"If you agree to a breathalyser test beforehand," Cassie agreed jokingly.

Cecilia sighed and looked at her reprovingly. Cassie stopped smiling. "Oh, sorry."

Cecilia hesitated, reluctant to tell the story. "I actually didn't mean to meet them – I mean, him – today," she admitted. Cassie shot her a reproachful look, but let her continue. "I followed them again. I don't know, Cass, there's something weird about them. They went to the old MacDowell place."

Cassie frowned. "Why the _hell_ would she go there?"

Cecilia shrugged. "I don't know, but they seemed to know a lot about it. Maybe that's what they were researching when they were at the library."

"That still sounds really weird," Cassie remarked. "Maybe they're interested in those stupid old stories about it being haunted. That's just –" She stopped short when she saw the look on Cecilia's face. "What is it?"

Cecilia look away. "I…don't know. I mean, I don't know how to say this. I mean, I think I…saw…"

Cassie stared at her. "You're totally serious, aren't you?" she asked incredulously. "You think you saw a…ghost."

Cecilia nodded. She seemed to start to say something, but stopped and looked out the window of the apartment. "I have to go," she said suddenly. She stood up and headed for the door, never having taken her shoes off when she walked in.

"Cecilia, what the hell? What are you _on_? Where are you going?"

Cecilia shook her head. "I'm leaving. I have to go. I'm not on drugs, and I'm not crazy."

"Cecilia!"

She stopped at the door. "_What?_"

"You dream about people dying. You're definitely crazy."

Cecilia glared at her before shooting out of the apartment, slamming the door behind her.

* * *

And so ends Chapter 10. 

Please review:)

-Caitlyn


	11. Chapter 11

OMG here's Chapter 11!!! Sorry it once again took a while. I am slow.

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**Chapter 11**

Sam knew he was frustrating Dean to no end, with his "feelings" and seeing ghosts, and now, taking off for apparently no reason at all. But he needed to think and their cramped motel room was not the place to do it.

It was dark outside. He wasn't even sure where he was, though he knew he wasn't too far from the motel. He sighed, frustrated with everything that was going on at the moment.

The sick, nervous feeling that was always in the pit of his stomach never went away. He knew that it must have something to do with the MacDowell house, but nothing seemed to be going well regarding that. He didn't understand why he had seen Lucy's ghost earlier that day, or why Dean had not. And then there was the mystery of Cecilia Black. He had another feeling of nervousness as he thought of her.

Just as he knew she didn't believe his and Dean's story for being at the MacDowell place, he didn't believe hers. He knew there had to be another reason for her presence there; he just didn't know what.

"Somehow I knew I'd find you here," an already familiar voice said quietly from behind him.

"Are you stalking me?" He didn't really mean it, and it sounded cheesy even in his own ears, but that wasn't really his concern at the moment.

"What if I am?" He glanced at Cecilia as she came up beside him. "Bit, sorry, I'm not stalking you."

There was something about the way she said _you_ that raised goosebumps on his arms, but he didn't comment on it. "What are you doing out here, then?"

"Oh…my roommate was being crazy," she said with an unconvincing roll of her eyes.

"Hmm." Sam gave her an awkward smile, not trusting her.

She was quiet for a while, staring out at nothing, looking almost sorrowful. He pulled his gaze away from her face and let his mind wander. Who was this girl? Why was she so adamant that he and Dean not return to the MacDowell house? He remembered what she'd said before she passed out earlier. _And, more importantly, who is he?_ She had meant Dean – so what the hell?

"Where's Dean?" Cecilia asked suddenly, looking around for him. Sam felt his heart sink for some strange reason. What was this weird obsession with Dean?

"Oh, I needed some time alone," he said cautiously. "He's not here."

He glanced at her, wondering if she knew what he was thinking. "You're not stalking me," he said quietly, "you're stalking Dean."

Sam looked straight at her, expecting to see a "caught red-handed" look on her face. She didn't say anything for a moment, simply looked back at him with a sad and almost scared look in her eyes. _Oops._ Maybe there was another explanation for her infatuation with his brother…

"If you knew something horrible was going to happen," she said suddenly, her gaze no longer meeting his, "I mean, if you knew someone was going to die…would you try to stop it?"

He stared at her, his heart starting to race. "Dean," he said hoarsely. He knew that feeling hadn't been nothing. His stomach seemed to flip over.

"I know it sounds crazy," she said quickly, "but you have to believe me, I'm not insane, and I would never joke about this kind of thing. I –"

"First me, now Dean, what the hell?" Sam asked in disbelief, cutting her off. With a pang he remembered Ava's speech as she tried to convince him that she wasn't crazy, not realizing that he believed her already/

"What?" Cecilia was staring at him. A look of shock came onto her face. "Do you believe me?"

* * *

Cecilia had imagined a lot of reactions to what she'd said, in her mind, before telling Sam, bit this was not what she had expected at all. She hadn't even told him yet, but he seemed to already know what she meant – yet he seemed completely unperturbed and was talking to himself incoherently. "First me, now Dean, what the hell?"

"What?" she gasped, gaping at him. _What is this guy on?_ Then another thought struck her. "Do you believe me?"

He nodded but didn't answer her, lapsing into silence as he fell deep into thought. She stared at him, blinking, unable to contain her shock.

"Whoa, whoa, wait – you _do_ believe me?" He snapped out of it and looked at her. "You really do?"

He was kissing her before she could think; the thoughts came as she pulled herself even closer to him. _He's on drugs. _I'm_ on drugs. We're both crazy. I can't do this. Why are we doing this? What the _hell_ is wrong with me?_

He pulled away. "Thank you," he said breathlessly, "you don't know how much you've helped us. You just saved Dean's life!"

"What?" she gasped again. "How did you know?"

"I can't explain," he said. "I'll be around, believe me – I'll see you soon. I have to go."

"Where?" Cecilia knew what an idiot she sounded like, bit she couldn't come up with a coherent sentence.

"I have to talk to Dean."

"You're going to tell him? Won't he be freaked?"

Sam laughed, though she didn't know why.

"Are you kidding? You don't know how many times this has happened to us."

She stared at him. _He's crazy. He's crazy. He's crazy._

"I'll be seeing you," he said softly, and a moment later, he was gone.

_Why did I come here?_ The feeling she'd had that caused her to run out of her apartment so quickly had told her that one of the brothers was around. She'd gone with the intention of revealing what she knew…how the _hell_ had it gotten so screwed up?

* * *

lol, I had fun with chapter. Hope you liked it:) 


	12. Chapter 12

It's the middle of the night, and I'm too tired to think of anything other than "Here's Chapter 12. Enjoy!" (Sorry. I will be more creative next time.)**

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**

**Chapter 12**

"I'm going to kill you," Dean announced as Sam burst into the motel room. He was lying on his bed, looking irritable. "You run off like that again, and something happens to you, I'm not coming to save your ass. Again," he added with a pointed glare.

"Will you stop saying that?" Sam asked, his temper flaring. "I'm about to save _your_ ass, so just shut up and listen, for once."

Dean sat up, obviously not in the best of moods either. "What the hell is _wrong_ with you?" he asked angrily. "Honestly, man, you're so tense lately – I mean, I know you're still worried about Ava or whatever, but come on – acting like –"

"I'm not tense over Ava," Sam retorted, even as his stiffening body betrayed his true feelings. "Look, I just talked to Cecilia, and –"

"_What?_" Dean's angry look faded a bit as he took this news in. "Are you _serious_? What'd you do, go back to her apartment?"

"No, I didn't," Sam cut in quickly, before Dean could get any farther. "She just sort of turned up and –"

" 'Turned up'?" Dean repeated. "What, is she stalking you or something?"

"_No_," Sam said impatiently. "No, Dean – I think she's stalking _you_."

Dean stared at him. "Me?" he asked. "What the hell are you on, Sam? You're the one she kissed for no apparent reason, not me. Why would she be stalking _me_?"

Sam took a deep, nervous breath. "Remember how Ava…how she was dreaming about…"

"Your death?" Dean gritted his teeth. "Yeah, I remember." His eyes widened. "Oh, God. Not again…"

"No," Sam replied. "Not again." He paused. "This time it's you."

Dean stared at him, his gaze fixed on Sam's face. Then, he said, "Can't we go three months without one of us ending up in some sort of life-threatening situation?"

"Dean, we're hunters," Sam reminded him. "We're _always_ in a life-threatening situation."

"You know what I meant," Dean snapped. He didn't seem overly worried about Sam's announcement that he was going to die.

"That's why she was so persistent about not going back to the MacDowell house," Sam continued, deciding to ignore Dean's attitude. "She must have foreseen it – you…" He couldn't finish the sentence.

"So, is she…like you?" Dean asked, not sure what to call him. "Like you and Max and Andy and…" Dean stopped. He had seen the dark look flit across Sam's face when he was forced to mention Ava's name earlier, and he wasn't eager to see it again. Nor was he eager to refer to his younger brother and the other psychics like him as "demon children."

Sam shrugged. "I don't know. I realized what she was trying to tell me and took off to come here. She didn't get to tell me much."

"Smooth move, Ex-Lax," Dean said sarcastically. "So, in other words, you don't really know anything."

Instead of looking sheepish, a defiant look came onto Sam's face. "I wanted to make sure you hadn't run off to waste Lucy's spirit yourself," he told Dean.

The older Winchester was indignant. "Why the hell would I do that?"

"Well, you have been known to be pretty impatient when it comes to killing evil," Sam retorted.

"When have I ever done that?" Dean demanded.

"How about in St. Louis?" Sam shot back. "You didn't wait for me to kill the shapeshifter; you went right down into the sewers."

"And found Rebecca down there," Dean replied angrily. "If I hadn't done that, you'd be dead, you idiot."

Sam's head snapped up. He looked furious. "Well, next time _don't_ come to save me, if it's such a pain in the ass," he said angrily. "I'm going to sleep." He stormed over to his bed in the motel room. Dean didn't answer.

* * *

She was standing at the foot of his bed. "Sam." 

He slowly turned and looked up at the sound of her voice. He felt his eyes widen and a sudden cold feeling spread over his entire body.

"Come one," she said with her sweet, sad smile. She held out her hand for him to take. "I'll show you the truth."

* * *

Yay for updates. Hope you liked it!! 


	13. Chapter 13

Wow...I really took a long time to update this time. Sorry!! 

Anywho...yay for Chapter 13. What's happening with Sam? Ooh, suspense. Um. Not. :P

* * *

**Chapter 13**

Dean couldn't sleep. He hated fighting with Sam, and he felt especially bad this one since he knew their argument had been pointless. Okay, well, it hadn't started out pointless. So Freaky Girl was actually a psychic and was apparently foreseeing his death. But the way they'd ended the conversation was ridiculous was ridiculous. He couldn't remember the last time they'd had such a stupid fight.

A noise from Sam took him from his thoughts. His younger brother was asleep on his bed, though it seemed far from sound. Dean felt his heart skip a beat when he realized that Sam's breathing was getting heavier and irregular. Something wasn't right. He jumped out of bed. "Sam!"

* * *

Lucy MacDowell's spirit stared Sam down. "I tried to find her, but she can't hear me." 

"Who?" Sam asked, sitting up, his pulse racing. He suddenly wasn't afraid anymore.

"I saw what she sees," Lucy continued, ignoring him. "She sees his death. It's horrible." The spirit shuddered.

Sam swallowed as he realized who she was talking about. "Cecilia?" he asked. "Why were you looking for Cecilia?"

"Come on," the spirit said, still disregarding his questions. "I'll show you the truth."

"Why are you killing people?" Sam blurted out. The temperature dropped even lower, and the already blurry motel room went even more out of focus.

"I'll show you the truth," she repeated. Her eyes boring into his. She disappeared for a split second and then reappeared at his side. Her icy cold hand slipped into his and the motel room disappeared.

* * *

"Sammy! Sam!" Dean tried to rouse his brother, whose panicky breathing was about the send Dean into fits. "Come on, Sammy, I can't deal with this right now!" But his pleading didn't have any effect.

* * *

"Shh. Come on. Let's go." There was the sound of a door creaking as someone opened it. 

"I'm scared," a high-pitched voice whined. "Let's go."

"Don't be an idiot. There's no such thing as ghosts. You're being stupid."

"I know," the whiny voice continued, "but it's creepy in here."

Two figures emerged from the darkness, one holding a small flashlight. The two teens moved forward, one eager, the other wary. Sam closed his eyes, feeling his stomach doing flip-flops. He knew what was going to happen next.

* * *

Sam flinched, still a prisoner of whatever nightmare he was having. Dean felt sick as he tried, yet again, to awaken his brother, to no avail. 

Sam gasped, and a bead of sweat rolled down his face. Dean was desperate. "Come on, Sammy – I don't know how to help you."

* * *

The boy's flashlight went out, and the girl gasped. Sam shivered, unable to look away. He could feel Lucy next to him. She was shaking. 

"Hello?" called the girl. Sam could hear her heavy, terrified breathing. He tried to close his eyes again, but, as if she could sense it, Lucy tugged on his arm.

"It's the truth."

What _truth_? Why was Lucy showing him what happened to her victims? Why wasn't she killing _him_?

Somewhere, in whatever past, present, or future that the two teens were in, a door slammed on its own. The girl shrieked. "Who's there?"

"Oh, come on," the boy scoffed. "I told Jeff and Evan that we were coming here for fun. It's probably them trying to scare us."

"This – isn't –fun!" the girl snapped, tugging on his arm. "Let's go – _now_!"

The sound of something falling to the ground in a resounding crash made the teens, and Sam, jump. The girl screamed.

"Lucy?" This time it was neither the girl nor the guy who spoke. "Lucy!"

The girl sank to the floor, a trembling, whimpering heap as the spirit of Patrick MacDowell, Lucy's father, stumbled in, a wild and bloodthirsty look in his ghostly eyes.

* * *

Sam's heavy breathing stopped. Dean felt his stomach jump. 

_Wait. Something's wrong._

Sam _wasn't_ breathing. At all.

"Sammy!"

Sam's eyes flew open and he started to cough, as if he'd just come up from underwater. Dean felt his body go limp with relief. At least his brother was alive.

* * *

Well, wasn't that fun? 

lol. Catch ya next time. Enjoy!


	14. Chapter 14

Hey people, back again! So Chapter 13 was fairly exciting. I guess. :P In 14 we have some lovely brotherly unlove (well, not quite, but there are some raised voices). Oh, and some Stupid!Confused!Doesn'tKnowWhatHe'sTalkingAbout!Sam. Here it is!**

* * *

**

**Chapter 14**

"Dean, it's not Lucy!" Sam sat himself up, apparently completely unaware that he had pretty much been having a seizure just moments before. Dean glared at him.

"First of all, are you okay?" He wasn't in the mood for Sam's rambling at the moment. His younger brother didn't seem to notice his current hostility.

"Dean! Are you listening to me? It's not Lucy, it's –"

"Sam! Just shut up for a minute, all right?" Dean could not believe his ears. "You were, like, just having a seizure or something, did you know that? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Dean, it's the father."

"Great, Sammy, great. You know, I'm really not liking this job. For some reason, that little bitch is going after you. This is the second time now. I think you should stay away from the house, Sam. Just let me do this one."

"What? Hell, no. You can't do that."

Dean's glare became even more dangerous. "Why the hell not? Sam, the first time, she only put you in a trance, but this time you stopped breathing. I'm afraid that if she tries to kill you again –"

"Dean! Listen to me." Dean clenched his fists but complied. "Okay, both times she wasn't trying to kill me – she was trying to contact me. The first time she realized Cecilia was there and went to her instead."

Trying to keep his irritation hidden, Dean nodded, and Sam continued. "Tonight it _was_ her again – but she showed me how those people die – I saw –" His voice trailed off. "Oh, God!"

Dean stared at him. "What?"

Sam jumped off his bed. "I have to go. It hasn't happened. Patrick didn't kill them yet – it's going to happen tonight. Like, soon."

"What?" Sam, what the hell are you talking about? You're not making any sense!" Dean followed his brother towards the door, worrying about his sanity, which he seemed to have been slowly losing since they took this job.

"Stay here," Sam ordered, as if he were in charge. Dean nearly bit his tongue in half.

"SAM!"

Finally – _finally_ – Sam paused to look at and actually listen to his older brother. Dean sighed with relief.

"Slow down, okay? I'm not the your head, and frankly, I'm not a freak magnet like you, so will you just tell me what the _hell_ you're rambling about?"

Sam blinked, like he was in shock. Dean felt guilty for a moment, but Sam's feelings were not his number one priority right now. His _physical_ well-being was just a little more important.

Sam looked at Dean. "I saw the ghost of Patrick MacDowell kill two teenagers. It's what Lucy showed me. But I hasn't happened yet. I can save them. But you can't – you can't come – that's where you're –" He stopped.

"Sam, dude – it's not even February."

Sam's eyes widened, confirming Dean's suspicion that this thought had not even crossed his mind. Dean took advantage of the moment to keep talking.

"Look, Sam, I know you want to save people and stuff, but I think Ghost Girl's been messing with your head, and you're being completely irrational. This spirit, whoever it is, whether it is Lucy or not, only kills in February – we know that for sure. So just chill out for a minute and think about what you're doing, will you?"

Sam took a deep breath and slowly started to walk back towards his bed, looking like he really needed to sit down. He seemed to collapse on his bed with a sigh.

"I'm going crazy," he moaned, falling back on the bed and staring at the ceiling. "I'm really losing my mind, Dean."

"Yeah, I'm used to it," Dean joked. Sam didn't crack a smile, though. Dean sighed. "Okay, why don't you start at the beginning, and tell me exactly what Ghost Girl showed you."

Sam turned his head to look at him. "Cecilia says you're going to die, Dean."

"We've already had this discussion, remember, Sam? It's why we were fighting in the first place."

"Oh, yeah." Sam blinked, then sat up again. "I'm pretty sure she's a psychic, too. When Lucy came to me tonight, she said that someone couldn't hear her. It took me a minute to realize she meant Cecilia. I think she tried to contact her first, but she couldn't/ Which is why I saw her instead."

"That's a nice story, Sam, but do I really care?" Dean said impatiently.

"I think that's why we could see her and you couldn't," Sam continued. "Because –"

"Okay. I get it," Dean snapped. "You're a psychic. She's a psychic. Can we move on, please, to the part where Lucy MacDowell tried to kill you?"

Sam shot him a dirty look, but recounted his dream, or whatever it had been, to Dean. When he was done, he laid down again. "I think what showed me what real."

"Mmm hmm," Dean said dubiously. "There's only one way to find out."

Sam's eyes widened. "Dean, Cecilia says –"

"I don't give a damn about what Cecilia says," Dean interrupted. "We're forewarned, right? So we'll just be more careful."

Sam sighed. Dean could see that his brother was worried. He didn't know what else to say, though.

"Okay," Sam said, as much as it obviously pained him to do so. "But you have to –"

"Be careful, I know, I just said that." Dean rolled his eyes. "Now go to sleep. You're getting annoying and you look like death. We'll figure out a plan in the morning."

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Hope ya like it! 


	15. Chapter 15

I'm tired, but I want to get an update in tonight since school starts tomorrow. So...thanks for the reviews! And...here's Chapter 15!!**

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**Chapter 15**

"Okay, the stalking thing is _really_ getting old!" Cassie yelled as Cecilia shot past her, heading for the nearest pair of shoes. "Will you just _calm down_ and think _rationally_ for a sec?" She had been shouting similar things for the past fifteen minutes, but Cecilia had stopped listening.

Her dreams had changed last night. Usually, she dreamt of whatever horrible event she was foreseeing in cryptic hints, then woke up trembling and in a cold sweat. This time, though, it was like her mind had rewound itself and restarted the full show. She could clearly recall the exact amount of times she had watched Dean Winchester die last night – seven and a half, the eighth time having been ruined by Cassie turning on the TV too loud.

The realization that it was almost quarter to one had sent her into an absolute panic. Her rerunning dream last night had confirmed her fear; that neither Sam nor Dean had heeded her warnings, and the older brother's death still loomed ominously ahead.

Cecilia ducked to avoid being murdered by a flying high-heeled shoe that looked like Cassie had worn to her eighth grade graduation. Great, now her friend was throwing things. Could this day get any worse?

_If someone dies…_

She refused to let the thought linger. She had promised herself that that would not happen. Not ever. Not again.

The raw pain of her memories sent her reeling as she stumbled into a pair of tattered running shoes. She heard Cassie shriek as another ugly shoe whizzed by, narrowly missing her head.

"Oh my God! I hit you! I didn't actually mean to hit you! Damn it, Cecilia, if you didn't act like such a psychopath all the time, then I wouldn't have to –"

"Can we finish this later?" Cecilia gasped as the attacking memories retreated. "Look, I'm sorry, but this is too important."

"What if you get killed out there?" Cassie shouted.

Cecilia got to her feet, the worried, ominous words ringing in her ears. "We go through this every time," she said sharply. "And I'm always fine."

"Fine? Fine? Oh, no, honey, you're far from fine. Every single time you come back from one of these crusades, you –"

"I lose a little more of my sanity each time, I know." Cecilia rushed past her friend, realizing she hadn't even glanced in the direction of a mirror since she'd woken up. Her dark brown hair was tangled and messy, and there were traces of yesterday's makeup still on her face, but it could have been far worse. She scooped her hair up into an off-centre ponytail and ran towards the door.

"Please don't go," Cassie begged, and her voice was no longer angry, simply worried and pleading. The usual tone Cecilia heard before she ran out with the intent of saving someone.

"I'll see you later, Cassie," Cecilia said confidently, as if she wasn't about to do what she was about to do. Someone had to keep the faith.

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Cecilia almost threw something through the black Impala's windshield when she saw it parked outside the MacDowell grounds. Why was it, that when people were stupid enough to get themselves into life-threatening situations in the first place, they could never listen to her and avoid their own impending deaths? She could never have the opportunity to save _smart_ people, could she?

She hopped out of her car, and stared up at the looming MacDowell house, shuddering as she remembered the last time she had been there. If she crossed the grounds and was attacked by a vision of that crazy little girl again – there would be no one to save her this time…

_Only one thing left to do._

Digging her fingers into her palm, hoping that if she pressed hard enough, she'd wake up and realize that it was just another one of her stupid nightmares, she started to run forward towards the old house.

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So there you have it! Enjoy! 


	16. Chapter 16

...and here's Chapter 16.

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** Chapter 16**

Sam hoped that rock salt would have an effect on this damn ghost.

He had hoped that the stupid thing would appear even though it wasn't February, so they could finish this job and never come back.

He hoped that the stupid thing _wouldn't_ appear so he wouldn't have to worry about his brother dying.

_Dean_ didn't seem worried. Then again, when did he ever think before doing anything?

He _didn't_. Why would Dean Winchester even have to worry? He was invincible. Or, he seemed to think so.

Sam's stomach clenched. He could find ample evidence that his older brother _wasn't_ invincible. Twice now, Dean had landed himself in the hospital, and Sam had much too clear memories of both times. And he did not want to have to live through that again.

The sound of something moving downstairs made him jump. Maybe Patrick's ghost _was_ going to appear.

_Wait. It's daylight. And not February._

There was a chance it would appear tonight – ghosts were usually more apt to appear at night. But it was unlikely that it would randomly make an appearance, especially since the EMF reader hadn't shown a sign of any supernatural being.

He turned around, feeling the back of his neck prickle. If it wasn't Patrick, then –

The cold hit him like a ton of bricks, but it was only a moment before he was sucked into Lucy's fuzzy unreality, as the EMF started to screech. He shivered. She was sitting right there, staring at him.

"What do you want now?" Sam asked irritably. Somewhere at the back of his ears, he could hear Dean yelling, but his voice was too far away to make out what he was saying.

"She's here," Lucy said nervously. She started to bite her nails. "I think she's crazy. Anyone who comes in here is crazy."

"Thanks," Sam said sarcastically, forgetting that he was talking to a ghost.

"No, not you two," Lucy said hastily, obviously referring to himself and Dean. "You're going to make him stop, right?" Her eyes filled with tears.

Sam looked at her with sympathy. "What happened to you, Lucy?" He wasn't sure why he was asking that question when there were much more relevant and important questions he could be asking, but he suddenly needed to know.

"When I was alive," Lucy said, looking away from him, another tear sliding down her cheek, "I used to have these dreams."

Sam felt his heart skip a beat. _Oh God._

"They…they used to foretell things. I knew about things before they happened." She suddenly turned her gaze to him. "You know all about that, don't you? That's why I can talk to you and not your brother."

Sam stared at her. "You…were a psychic? When you were alive?"

She nodded, and started to tear up once again. "A few days before my birthday, I told my best friend about one dream I had and how it came true. A high school girl got hit by a car and died. I was going to tell her who hit her." She stopped and brought her knees up to her chin, wrapping her arms around her legs.

"Go on," Sam said patiently, forgetting that in the real world he and Dean were on a hunt.

Lucy looked back at him tearfully. "It was her older brother. He had too much to drink one night and when he took their father's car he hit the girl. I didn't know what else to do. So I tried to tell her.

"But she was afraid of me, when I told her. She told me to leave and not to come back." The tears were silently pouring down her face now. "But he heard me. Her brother, I mean. He heard me till her, and realized that I knew he killed the girl."

"Did he kill you, Lucy?" Sam asked gently. She was trembling uncontrollably, but she nodded.

Sam was silent for a moment, realizing that he was possibly the only living person who knew the answer to the fifty-year-old mystery.

"What about your family?" he asked. "Who killed them? Did he do it too?"

She shook her head. "That was…It was…"

Sam felt a tingling in his fingertips. With a start, he realized that the unfamiliar feeling was warmth creeping in from the real world. He didn't have much time left.

Suddenly, it clicked. He couldn't believe how absolutely stupid he was.

"It was your dad, wasn't it?" he asked. It made complete sense, he couldn't believe he hadn't seen it before. "After you – disappeared – he lost it, didn't he?"

She nodded, and Sam suddenly realized that her corporeal form was seeming to disintegrate. The warmth in his fingertips was starting to move up his arms, too.

Whatever time he had left, it definitely wasn't much.

"That's why he kills, isn't it?" Sam asked, everything falling into place now. Lucy nodded again.

"I have to go," the girl whispered. "You'll stop him, won't you? Please. Please stop him. I haven't seen my dad since – since –"

Her voice trailed off and Sam's already fuzzy world blurred even more and seemed to tilt in all directions.

"Thank you," Lucy called, and it was the last thing he heard before everything faded away.

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Enjoy! 


	17. Chapter 17

WOW. It took me a REALLY long time to update this time around. Sorry!! It won't happen again, I promise.

Well, hopefully.

Anyway, thanks for the replies!!!

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**Chapter 17**

"Oh my God, he's waking up."

Sam felt confusion creep into his pounding head. He last remembered talking with Lucy MacDowell's ghost. He'd finally gotten the answers he was looking for.

His eyes flew open.

"Jesus Christ, Sam, next hunt we go on, I'm locking you in the motel room and that's where you're going to stay the entire time."

Sam blinked. "What?"

"Exactly what I said," Dean snapped, pulling him to his feet. "It's been three hours, did you know that?"

Sam almost fell over again with shock. "Three hours?" He glanced around. They were still in the dusty interior of the MacDowell house. He wondered if Dean was just pulling his leg.

"Yes, Sam, three hours, and you're lucky you didn't stop breathing again, because then I would've had to call an ambulance, and that's really not something we need right now."

Sam winced. A recent hunt involving a shapeshifter and a botched bank hold-up had left them both wanted by the FBI, and any extra attention was completely unwelcome right now.

"You're lucky you didn't _die_," said a familiar girl's voice, "because then it would've been _his_ fault you died, because _I_ tried to get him to call someone, and he didn't listen."

Sam glanced over at Cecilia Black, who was sitting in a corner of the room, looking nervous. She was biting her nails.

"She won't leave," Dean said sourly, making no attempt to lower his voice. He didn't look at her, and she didn't look at him. Sam couldn't imagine what the atmosphere had been like while he was unconscious.

"Was it Lucy again?" Dean asked him. Whatever annoyed him so much about Cecilia, he was dealing with it, completely ignoring her. "You just kind of passed out. For a minute, I thought you were – I thought –" The unfinished sentence made Dean's face drain completely of any colour, but he continued on. "You were, like…freezing cold, but you were breathing, so –"

"I'm okay," Sam cut in. "She didn't do anything, we were just talking."

"Good to see you two have become just good buddies," Dean said sarcastically.

"I know what happened to her," Sam told him. "I know why Patrick's killing people."

"Good for you," Dean said. He glanced at his watch. "It's almost four. Do you want to come back tonight – _like we originally planned_ – or do you want to keep looking around, now?"

"What are you going to do?" Cecilia asked nervously.

"_We_ were just going to look around," Dean said pointedly. "Unfortunately, a few things happened."

"Why are you here, Cecilia?" Sam asked. He wasn't trying to be rude – he liked her a lot – maybe more than he should – but her presence was an unfortunate kink in their plans, and neither of them really needed any other people to protect on what was proving to be a really dangerous hunt.

She glanced at Dean nervously before her gaze flicked back to Sam, and he realized that Cecilia had no idea of their history with the supernatural world. Chances were, she thought Dean would flip if she admitted that she was having about his death.

"He knows," Sam said wearily. "I told him everything."

She looked at Dean. "Then why the hell did you come here today?"

Sam couldn't hide a smirk at the looks on both their faces. Cecilia was looking at Dean like he was crazy, and he, in turn, was looking at her like he couldn't be more annoyed.

"What do you –"

"Dean," Sam said sharply, not wanting them to argue. His head was still pounding. "Cecilia, there's a lot of things you don't know about us. To put it bluntly, danger doesn't really bother us."

"But there is one thing I do know –" Cecilia began.

"If you say that I'm going to die, I've already been informed, thank you," Dean snapped. Sam rolled his eyes. He didn't know why the two seemed to irritate each other so much, but now it was starting to get on _his_ nerves.

"I've been trying my hardest to make sure you _don't_ die, and you walked right into it!"

"I have things to do!"

"Can you two stop yelling?" Sam asked with a wince. He knew his brother had a history of being childish, at times, but God – this was ridiculous. And he'd had higher hopes for Cecilia's level of maturity. He rubbed his temples.

Damn, this was complicated.

"We should head back to the motel," he finally said. "Honestly, we're not going to get anything done now."

The look Cecilia gave him was surprised and full of hurt. She thought he meant because of her, he realized. Truthfully, the whole world simple seemed to be against he and Dean on this hunt. Maybe God paid more attention to the FBI's "Wanted" list than they thought.

"Did you drive over here?" he asked her, not knowing how to say that it wasn't because of her.

She nodded, a hard look in her eyes. Sam felt his heart sink.

Dean huffed out an angry sigh and started to leave the room. Sam took advantage of the moment to talk to Cecilia.

"Hey," he said, falling in step with her s she began to follow Dean out the door. "I know Dean isn't exactly the friendliest person in the world – but thank you. I know you're doing everything in your power to save him – and he appreciates it, even if he doesn't act like it. And so do I."

She didn't answer him for a minute. Then, she said, with an edge to her voice, "Why is it that you believed me right away?"

He frowned. "What?"

She stared up at him. "People who are in their right minds don't accept stories of premonitions of death so readily. It's creepy and it's unnatural and you believed me right away. What is with that?"

Sam gazed down at her. "You're right," he said. "It is creepy, and it is unnatural."

The hurt expression returned to her face.

"But I can only say that," Sam continued, "because I'm a psychic, too, and I've been in the position you're in before. I've also been where Dean is now, not long ago. None of this is new to us. We've both been here before."

The hurt had faded into astonishment as he spoke, and now she was gazing up at him, her eyes huge. "Are you serious?" she whispered.

"Dead serious," he whispered back.

Her eyes widened even more, as humanly impossible as it seemed. She swallowed hard.

"Are you two coming?" Dean was still in a snitch, and he was not patient.

Sam and Cecilia glanced at each other before moving to follow Dean. Sam could feel his heart pounding in his chest, even though he didn't know why.

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Hope you liked it!!! 


	18. Chapter 18

Hey everyone! Here's another update for you. I've been busy - what else is new? - but here is Chapter...Chapter...what chapter are we on? Let me check.

Aha! Here is Chapter 18.**

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**Chapter 18**

"So, what the hell did she think we were doing, anyway?" Dean asked grumpily. He was still unhappy about Cecilia's untimely appearance at the MacDowell house. As well as Sam's unfortunate run-in with Lucy's ghost.

Sam glanced at him. "What _happened _between you two?" he asked. It had been several hours since they left the house, but their communication hadn't been at it's greatest.

"She just keeps turning up at the most awkward times, and it's really annoying," Dean said. "I mean, we were just looking around and –"

"Dean, we weren't looking around when she came, remember?" Sam reminded his brother. The only thing he remembered from then was his conversation with Lucy, but he had a strong feeling that Dean hadn't been looking around while he was unconscious.

"Yeah, whatever," Dean didn't look at him, simply kept driving.

"Okay," Sam said, deciding to change the subject, "the MacDowell family is buried in the town's main cemetery. They're all buried near each other; hopefully we'll be able to tell which one is Patrick MacDowell's."

"Well, if not," Dean replied, sounding relieved to be off the subject of Cecilia, "we'll just have to burn all the bones, then"

Sam sighed. "It just seems so disrespectful," he said.

"Well, suck it up. We might not have any other choice."

Sam rolled his eyes. He couldn't wait for this job to be over; it seemed to put Dean in a perpetual bad mood.

With a start, he remembered Cecilia's ominous prophecy regarding Dean's life. He drew in a breath sharply. Dean finally looked at him at the sound "What?"

"Nothing."

Dean sighed irritably and Sam had a sense of déja-vu. Hadn't they had this conversation before, while they were on their way to this job? Or, at least, a similar conversation?

When they pulled up to the cemetery, Dean jumped right out of the car without looking at Sam. He obviously couldn't wait for this job to be over, either.

Once Sam caught up with his brother, they walked together in silence, looking for any graves marked "MacDowell." In the dark, it was hard with only their flashlights to illuminate the gravestones, and every word that began with "Mac" looked like "MacDowell."

"There it is," Dean said, stopping, the light of his flashlight trained on a huge slab of stone engraved with the words "MacDowell" with the names of all the family members underneath.

"There must have been a huge memorial for them when they died," Sam said, looking at the names and epitaphs carved into the stone. Just as Dean had found out from his research at the library, there were the names of three daughters, and two sons, as well as the parents. Sam sighed with relief as he realized that there were indications as to where each MacDowell was buried.

Dean started to dig without hesitation. Sam clenched his jaw and followed suit. They didn't speak as they dug.

Sam jumped when both his and Dean's shovels both struck the coffin. The old wood was decaying, but it still made a loud noise as it cracked and shattered. Dean reached for the kerosene.

"What is _with _you?" Sam asked, suddenly furious that Dean was still acting like a child. "You've been bitchy ever since we went to the MacDowell place. Will you just tell me what's wrong?"

"I just can't wait to finish this job that's all," Dean snapped. "And it's a hell of a lot easier if you're not chit-chatting the whole time, you know."

Sam sighed.

Dean smashed the top part of the coffin and poured the kerosene on Patrick MacDowell's remains. Sam lit the match, watching the flame flicker for a moment before dropping it into the open grave.

Dean sighed with relief as he watched the bones burns. "Man, I hope this works," he said, and he didn't sound nearly as angry as he had before.

Sam thought back to the other times where burning the bones had not been enough to destroy the spirit. "We should probably go back to the house just to make sure, shouldn't we?"

Dean sighed "Yeah."

They waited a bit to make sure the fire wouldn't spread then got back into the car to head for the MacDowell house.

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So, there it is! I have nothing to say because at the moment I am like OMGIn24HoursIWillBeWatchingTheSeasonPremiereOfHeroes,ACK!!! so I am not really in an SN mood. Yes, I know. The sky is falling.

Anywho...

Enjoy!!!! 


	19. Chapter 19

Yay, it's time for a new update. HEY HEY HEY GUESS WHAT? IN EXACTLY ONE WEEK, WE'LL ALL BE OMFG ABOUT THE NEW EP OF _SN_!!! ACK!!!

Erm, um, ahem Here's Chapter 19.

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**Chapter 19 **

Just as Cecilia had suspected, Sam and Dean headed for the MacDowell house after they – well, after they did whatever it was they did in the cemetery. She wasn't really sure she wanted to know.

Cecilia drove faster, knowing that she _wasn't_ wrong, that something _was_ going to happen, and she had to stop it, because they weren't smart enough to stay away from danger.

A sick, scared feeling came over her. She knew this feeling, remembered this feeling – had promised herself that it would never, ever get past this feeling again.

She was going to save Dean, she decided firmly, feeling her whole body start to tremble, if it was the last things he did.

And it was only too possible that it might very well be the last thing she did.

Cecilia jumped as her cell phone began to ring in her pocket. _Holy crap_, she thought. When had she gotten so jumpy?

When she met Sam and Dean – no, before she met them…

_I don't even know their last name_, she thought suddenly.

The continued ringing of her phone snapped her out of her thoughts again. With a sigh, she flipped it open and held it to her ear. "Hello?"

"Stop following them!"

Cecilia sighed. "Hi, Cassie."

"Where the hell are you? Are you still stalking those two guys? Aren't you done yet?"

"Cassie, these things don't resolve themselves in a day."

"It's been a week since your two guys turned up here. And you've been insane ever since. You –"

Cecilia almost bit her tongue in half. "Cassie, you don't know what it's like. If I do something wrong, Dean will –" She stopped, feeling the words die in her throat.

Cassie was silent for a moment, but when she spoke again, her voice was quiet and understanding, but worried, too. "You're thinking of Stephen, aren't you?"

She didn't know that tears could well up and fall so fast, but they could and the moment the words were out of her friend's mouth, they did. "Oh, God, Cassie. I can't think about him right now, okay?"

The regret was apparent in Cassie's voice as she spoke, but she hadn't been knocked off course. "Tell me where you are, at least. You scare me to death every time you do this…"

The aching hole healed and the tears dried up as Cassie settled into her familiar rant that she went into every time Cecilia went off to save someone.

"I have to go, Cassie," she said as she pulled up to the MacDowell house, where Sam and Dean's car was already parked, and promptly hung up her phone. She could do this. Dean would be okay. Sam would be okay. And, God forbid, _she_ would be okay.

It looked like Sam and Dean had already gone into the old house. Cecilia closed her eyes and tried to breathe. She could do this. She had done this before –

Except once –

_Oh God_ –

She shoved open the car door and stepped out, opening her eyes only to evade the flood of memories that she knew was coming.

_I can do this._

She had done this only hours before – walked up the property of saving someone's life. Now, she did it again, her sixth senses tingling, praying that she could fulfill that intention.

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Enjoy! 


	20. Chapter 20

WOW. Sorry for the delay in updating!!! My life has been crazy lately, this week especially (don't ask). Anyway, here's Chapter 20!  
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**Chapter 20**

The atmosphere was somehow creeper now than it had been before. Maybe it was the darkness; they had actually never been at the MacDowell house this late at night.

"Are you okay?" Dean asked, glancing slightly worriedly at Sam, his former irritation forgotten.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Sam answered, feeling slightly embarrassed. "I think she just really wanted someone to know what happened to her."

"If your buddy Cecilia turns up again," Dean said, clicking on his flashlight as they reached the front door, "you have to tell her to leave, okay? She doesn't listen to me, so…"

"Dean," Sam said patiently, "she's just trying to help." His stomach twisted into a knot as he remembered exactly _why_ she was trying to help. He wiped his suddenly sweaty palms on the side of his jeans. "Anyway, she probably won't come."

As if on cue, they both turned at the sound of a car in the distance drawing steadily nearer. Dean crossed his arms and glared at his brother. "What were you saying?"

Sam sighed, but couldn't feel irritated. Hadn't _he_ been just as persistent in the after, after he had visions of other people's deaths?

"Stay here and tell her to beat it," Dean said, and the sour note had returned to his voice. "God, can't we do _anything_ without…"

"Not happening," Sam said, moving so he was blocking Dean's entrance to the house. "Sorry, Dean, but you're the one who's supposed to die in there, remember?"

"Oh, come on, Sam, we burned his bones. You're just being paranoid."

"We burned the Hookman's bones," Sam reminded him. "Remember how that turned out?" His arm stung at the memory, where the spirit's silver hook had cut him when they hunted it last year.

"Shut up," Dean said, but the worry had returned to his voice.

"Well, what if she walks in here, and Patrick's ghost _hasn't_ been destroyed, and it's pissed off, and it gets to her?" Dean continued. "We can't take off. But we really need to figure out if the stupid ass ghost is still here."

"Okay," Sam bit his lip. "How about I go look around and you stay here to meet her?"

"I already told you, she doesn't listen to me." Dean crossed his arms obstinately.

"Well, you're not going anywhere alone, so –"

"What are you guys doing here?" Sam cringed and turned around.

"We _were_ arguing about what to do with you once you got here," Dean shot at her. "But, now, lucky us, you _are_ here, so we can tell you to get lost right now."

"I am trying to save your life!" Cecilia got right in his face as she yelled at him. "I _have been_ trying to save your life and neither of you will listen to anything I say!"

"Look," Dean snapped back at her, "I know that, and thanks, I'm glad you are, but what we do is really dangerous, and honestly, we can't afford to have someone else die on one of our hunts right now."

"Cecilia," Sam said quickly, before she could say a word, "it's true. We don't know if the spirit who's killing people is still in there or not, but until we do, it's not safe for anyone who doesn't know what they're doing."

"It's not safe for you, either." Cecilia turned to look at him. "I'm not going anywhere."

Sam looked at his brother. Dean was clenching his jaw.

"I'm not going to let you die," Cecilia said, her gaze once again directed at Dean.

They both sighed, and Sam nodded. "Come on," he said.

"If you see anything, scream and run," Dean told her sharply. She glared at him.

Sam watched Dean turn the doorknob and cautiously enter the house. Cecilia pushed ahead of Sam and followed him in. Sam swallowed hard.

As stupid and absolutely ill-timed as it was, he felt a twinge of jealousy as Cecilia followed close behind Dean. He knew that when she kissed him that night in her apartment building, there hadn't been any feeling behind it, but when he kissed her, after she revealed that she was a psychic to him…he hated to admit it, but there _had_ been feeling behind it.

He looked up from the floor that he'd been staring at as he brooded, and was shocked to find a pair of dark eyes staring at _him_. Cecilia flushed and turned back to Dean, whose stride was brisk and quick, and certainly unforgiving to anyone who couldn't keep up.

Sam watched her watch Dean with almost-concealed fascination as he held out the EMF reader, scanning the room darkly. He knew he was being stupid; he knew that now was a ridiculous time to be analyzing his feelings for Cecilia. But he couldn't help it.

It happened in an instant; suddenly, out of nowhere, the ceiling above them seemed to crack open, just as Dean walked through a doorway a few feet away. Sam grabbed the back of Cecilia's shirt and yanked her back, a beam of wood narrowly missing her head as she flew backwards.

Sam watched in horror as oh-too-real Indiana Jones rip-off played out before his eyes, the falling debris creating a pile between he and the door Dean had walked through, leaving Sam helpless and Dean possibly injured and definitely trapped on the other side.

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Muahahahahahahahahahahahaha 


	21. Chapter 21

OH MY GOD.

I'm not gonna lie; I just completely forgot to update. I know it's been a long time. I'm sorry.

But, here's Chapter 21!  
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**Chapter 21**

Sam thought he might pass out.

He stared in steadily mounting horror at the pile of debris separating he and his brother. It took him a moment to realize that he was still holding Cecilia from when he pulled her from the danger zone.

"Oh my God," Cecilia gasped, looking shellshocked, gazing at the collapsed ceiling.

"He's still around," Sam moaned, knowing he couldn't panic but desperately tempted to. "God _damn_ it, it didn't work."

She looked at him. "What?"

He remembered for the second time that he was still holding her and let go, feeling guilty, somewhere in him, but he wasn't sure where. Dean was on the other side and he might be hurt, and Patrick MacDowell's spirit was still at large.

Cecilia fell to her knees. "It's happening again," she whispered. "I can't, oh God, I can't do this, not again, oh God…"

Suddenly feeling dizzy at her words, Sam pulled her to her feet to face her. "Again?"

There were tears in her eyes. "Last year, I had this boyfriend." Shoe closed her eyes to stem the flow the flow of tears. "His name was Stephen, and I…" She stopped. "I loved him. One night I started to have nightmares. About him. That was the – the first time –" Her story came to a shuddering halt.

Sam felt even dizzier, and realized that a line of blood was running down his face. Something must have struck him when the ceiling fell in, but he couldn't be sure what. Dean was in danger. Dean was in danger. Dean was in danger.

"I couldn't stop it," whispered Cecilia. "I couldn't figure it out…I couldn't save him. It was my fault he died!" Her voice had risen to a hysterical pitch.

"Whoa, whoa, calm down." Sam grabbed her hands. "Believe me, I've been in your shoes before, and you can't blame yourself. But right now, Dean could be hurt, and we need to save him, okay?"

She stared up at him, her tear-filled eyes wide. "What if I can't?" she whispered. "What if…"

"We don't have time for 'what ifs,' " Sam said. He didn't mean to sound harsh, but Dean was his top priority right now. Nothing else mattered.

* * *

Dean groaned, feeling pain in every inch of his body. With a wince, he found he could move, albeit slowly. He had never actually thought he could hurt so much.

No, that was a lie. He had been in this much pain before, and beyond.

_Whoa, morbid._

Damn, he was in bad shape. He thought of Cecilia's prediction of his death. Maybe he should have taken it more seriously.

Cecilia. Death.

Oh, now he remembered. The stupid girl had followed them – _again_ – into the house, and within five minutes of walking through the door, the ceiling had randomly collapsed right on top of them. He blinked, trying to recover control over his aching body. He had to get up, had to figure out a way to get out of this mess. He looked around, his blurry vision clearing, but he was alone.

_Sam._

_Oh, damn it!_

He tried to push himself off the ground, but his body wasn't cooperating yet, and his trembling arms would not support him.

He felt his heart skip a beat at the sound of voices on the other side of the rubble. _Sam!_ His brother was alive, at least, and had hopefully survived the collapse unscathed. He strained to hear. Now it was Cecilia's voice, high and scared and almost hysterical.

Okay. They were both alive. Now, he needed to get up and let them know he was, too.

He forced himself off the ground and stood on shaking legs. "Sam?" he yelled, trying to look for a way through the rubble. "Sam!"

There was the sound of rapid footsteps, and when Sam spoke, his voice was much closer than it had been. "Dean! Are you okay?"

"I think so. Sore, but all right." Dean tried to pull a few scraps of wood and metal from the pile of debris, but found he was weaker than he thought. He cringed at the thought of admitting it to Sam.

"Can you get out?" There was the sound of something solid and fairly heavy hitting the ground. Obviously _Sam's_ bodily strength hadn't been affected at all.

"Um, no." He grimaced at the admission.

"Why? Dean, are you really okay?" There was a note of panic in Sam's voice.

"Yeah, Sam, I'm fine, seriously." Almost, anyway. "I'm just a bit weak, okay?" Ugh. There, he said it.

"Oh. Okay, well, hang on, then. I'm coming."

Dean was about to reply when he felt a sudden unfamiliar chill run down his back. And then the sound of hoarse, laboured breathing met his ears. _Shit!_ He started to scramble away.

"Sam, hurry up!"

Dean froze in shock. He'd just been about to shout that – but somehow, Cecilia, on the other side, had beaten him to it.

"Huh?"

Cecilia's voice rose even higher. "Your ghost is in there with him!"

He heard Sam's panicked cry. "Dean!"

Dean didn't answer as he crawled clumsily away from Patrick MacDowell's spirit, the look in its eyes confirming Dean's suspicion that it was out for blood.

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Yay for more cliffhangers! I'll promise to try to update soon. 


	22. Chapter 22

OMG LOOK! I am actually updating on the day I MEANT to update! And here it is! **

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**Chapter 22**

This was unbelievable.

How could things have gone so wrong so fast?

"Dean!" Sam yelled, trying to contain his growing fear and praying for a response from his brother. "Dean, are you all right?"

There was no reply from Dean, but a wince from Cecilia. "Sam, we have to get in there!" she gasped. "Now!"

Sam sprang into action and started to work furiously, pulling things from the pile. His arms were aching already, but he couldn't stop.

Cecilia was still standing there. "Dean, don't just sit there!" she shouted. "Move! Try to get away!"

"Dean, MOVE!" Sam bellowed, just in case his brother couldn't hear her. Pulling a particularly heavy piece of wood from the pile of rubble, he said to Cecilia, panting, "What, can you see through walls, or something?"

She shook her head. "But I know what's going to happen, remember?"

He nodded and kept working. He had to get in there to Dean. He had to save his brother.

He pulled out and all the pieces of debris shifted. He backed away, pulling Cecilia with him, praying that it would be low enough or loose enough to let him through easily.

There was a crash from the other side.

_Oh, God._

He raced back to the pile. "Cecilia, help me. If we get through now, we could still get to Dean in time!"

She nodded and started to work on the pile, too, but her eyes were far away. He suddenly wondered if she realized what she was doing.

There was another crash from the other side just as the pile shifted again, this time falling low enough for Sam to get Dean. He grabbed his gun, thank God filled with rock salt, form the floor and climbed over the debris. "Dean, hang on!"

* * *

Dean wasn't sure how much more he could take. His weak legs were trembling beneath him, just barely able to support his weight. He sighed with relief as Sam clambered into the room with his gun. It was incredibly difficult to run from a spirit; it was nearly impossible to run from a spirit on shaking legs and in a tiny, cramped space. Things were not going well for him. 

Sam's gun went off with a loud crack, eliciting a shriek from Cecilia, who looked unbelievably spacey for their current situation. Patrick's ghostly form seemed to disintegrate. Dean sighed with relief. They'd get a few moments, at least.

"Dean, go." Sam grabbed his arm. "I don't think he cares who he kills, just that he kills someone. You're in bad shape. Go outside and take –"

Sam's orders were interrupted by an invisible force throwing them up against the wall. Dean groaned as he hit the floor again. He felt something warm trickle down his neck. Great, he was bleeding from somewhere else, too. The world began to spin a little faster.

"Dean!" Sam looked shaken, and there was blood coming from somewhere on his face, but he was too dizzy to figure out where. He seemed to be all right, though.

"Yeah?" He wasn't sure how to answer.

"Are you okay?" He was already standing up and cocking his gun.

"I, uh…" The world went topsy-turvy as he tried to move. "I'm not sure."

He winced at the sound of a gunshot as Sam pulled the trigger. "Dean, behind you!"

Dean flinched. He could not believe how this whole hunt was playing out. He looked up at his brother, the shotgun in his hand, his eyes furious and determined. Wasn't this supposed to be the other way around? Wasn't it always the other way around?

His heart leapt into his throat as Patrick's spirit reappeared for the final time, and with a vengeance. The invisible, intangible force knocked both Dean and his brother out from under their feet and into the walls again. Dean felt his consciousness slipping away.

He struggled to stay awake, but his mind and body had stopped responding to his orders a long time ago. As he slipped away, he wondered if he had hit his head even harder than he thought; the last thing he heard before he lost consciousness was the sound of a girl calling, "Daddy…"

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Woohoo! For me, I mean, you know, for updating. Soon. You know what I mean. 


	23. Chapter 23

I know it took a little long this time, but at least it wasn't insanely long, right? Right.

And here it is! 

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**Chapter 23**

Sam stared in shock at the girl slowly making her way towards Patrick's ghost. He glanced at Dean's prone form on the floor, his stomach churning. He needed to get to Dean.

"Lucy?"

The voice wasn't the monstrous growl he'd expected, as stupid as it sounded. Patrick MacDowell's voice was low and soft, riddled with shock and almost fear. The bloodthirsty look in his ghostly eyes faded.

"Daddy, stop."

The child who had died at fifteen stood before her father, tears in her eyes. "It's not their fault, Dad. Let them go."

Patrick's form started to tremble. His eyes were huge. "Lucy, is it really you?"

She nodded. "I'm here now."

"What happened to you, sweetheart?" Sam could not believe the kind words coming from the spirit who had just been trying to kill him and Dean.

"It was my friend's brother, Dad," she said. "You don't need to look anymore. I'm right here. Please, let them go. Come with me."

Sam was suddenly aware if Cecilia next to him. "How's Dean?" she whispered.

"I don't know." The sick feeling of fear returned to Sam. "Stay back, okay? The danger's not over yet."

"I'm not going anywhere," she hissed back.

"Well, stay away from them." Sam started to move towards Dean.

Patrick's head turned towards him and a moment later he was thrown against the wall. He heard Cecilia shriek.

"Dad, wait!"

Lucy rushed forward, and grabbed her father's arm. "Let him be, please. He helped me. He could hear me."

Sam slowly stood up again. He nodded in thanks at Lucy's ghostly form. She smiled back before looking back up at her father.

"Come on, Dad."

Patrick paused for a moment, then reached down to take his daughter's hand. "I'm so sorry, Lucy."

Sam stopped as he reached Dean, knowing that his brother needed help, but unable to tear his eyes away from the scene before him. He somehow expected a huge light to appear and them to walk into it, but that didn't happened. He was watching them one moment, and the next, they were gone.

It took him a moment to remember why he was where he was. He knelt down next to his brother. "Dean?" He rolled him over so he was face up, suddenly remembering that this might have been what Cecilia had foreseen. _Oh, God, don't let me have been too late._

"Dean, wake up." His mind went blank as terror set in. "Come on."

Cecilia appeared at his side. "Sam, he's hurt. Look, his head's bleeding. We should call an ambulance. _Now._"

"No, we can't do that." Dean wasn't that badly hurt. He would be all right. But they couldn't call an ambulance. Not after that stupid shapeshifter. They did not need the extra attention. Not now.

"Why the hell not?" Cecilia glared at him. "Are you two afraid of doctors or something? Because if you are, that's ridiculous. Before, when you just passed out or whatever, I get it, but, I mean, now he might be _bleeding_ to death, and you're just being stupid –"

"We're not afraid of doctors," Sam interrupted. "It's a long, really complicated story, and –"

"Don't _do_ that with me, Sam!" Cecilia cried. "Whatever it is, just tell me, all right? You're being ridiculous. Why won't you let me call an ambulance?"

Sam hesitated, not knowing what to say. _How on earth do you explain to someone that you're wanted by the FBI for crimes that were committed by a supernatural, shapeshifting freak?_

"Can you two please stop yelling?" Dean was groaning and seemed to be trying to move.

"Whoa, Dean!" Sam turned his attention back to his brother. "Are you okay?"

"I will be when you stop yelling in my ear," Dean snapped at him. "Help me up."

Sam reached down to help pull Dean to his feet. "No, seriously, are you all right?"

Dean winced as he put support on his legs. "Could be better." He tried to take a step, but his knees buckle. Sam continued to support him.

"Okay, come on, let's get out of here," Sam said, making sure not to let go of his brother.

Cecilia was staring at them. "That's it?" she asked.

Dean stared back at her. "Ghost is gone," he said. "No reason to hang around any longer…unless you want to stay and have a tea party or something, that is."

"Go to hell, Dean."

Sam rolled his eyes. "She saved your life, remember?"

"Yeah, whatever."

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lol! Hopw you liked it. 


	24. Chapter 24

OH NO! I DID IT AGAIN!

But here it is...sorry I took so long! 

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**Chapter 24**

"So, are you okay?"

Sam paused at the door, watching Dean with worried eyes. His brother looked exhausted, and even though the bleeding had stopped, he couldn't help but worry about his older brother.

"Stop babying me, Sam!"

Sam rolled his eyes. Even bruised, battered, and fresh out of a near-death experience, Dean couldn't handle people trying to take care of him.

"Okay, well, I won't be too long, all right? Call me if you need anything." He was still reluctant to leave his brother alone.

"What_ever_, Sam. Get out of here."

Sam couldn't help but smile as he shut the door.

He was heading to Cecilia's apartment. They had let her drive herself home after leaving the MacDowell property, but he had been too busy making sure Dean was all right to call her or go see her before now. He wasn't sure what he would say. He was nervous.

Sam tried to think of what to tell her as he drove to her apartment building, but the drive was over before he knew it. And he still didn't know what to say.

He didn't know what number her apartment was, so he had to stop at the front desk and ask. God, why was he so nervous? He was being stupid.

Sam hesitated before knocking on the door. Cecilia's mission was accomplished; she'd saved Dean's life. Maybe she was through with them. Maybe she didn't really want to talk to him. Maybe –

A tall blonde girl answered the door. "Can I help you?" she asked, looking him up and down.

"Um, yeah. Is Cecilia around?" he asked, feeling awkward. His palms were sweaty. God, why couldn't he just be _normal_?

Normal. Ha. 

"Yeah. Hang on. Do you want to come in?" The girl stepped back.

"Uh. Yeah." Sam walked in and the blonde shut the door behind him.

He looked around, the awkward feeling multiplying by a thousand.

"Sam?"

Cecilia emerged from another room, her eyes wide. "What are you doing here?"

Sam swallowed. "I came to see you."

She blinked. "Yeah. Obviously. Um, that was Cassie, my roommate." The blonde girl had mysteriously vanished from Sam's sight.

"She seems nice," Sam remarked, unable to think of anything else to say. How on earth was it that he had never outgrown the sixth-grade cure of unease around girls?

"So, uh, is there a reason you came by?" Cecilia asked. Her cheeks were flushed, and Sam suddenly wondered if she was as nervous around him as he was around her.

"Yeah." Only a thousand and one reasons.

She stood there, looking at him expectantly. He almost bit right through his bottom lip.

"Uh, want to, like, go somewhere more private? Like, outside or something?"

She blinked, looking slightly perplexed, but nodded. "Okay."

This was so weird, Sam thought, as they walked along. They'd kissed twice – saved a life together – faced an angry spirit together – and shared dangerous secrets with one another – yet here they were, walking nearly a foot apart, not speaking, daring only to sneak a glance over when they were certain that the other wasn't looking. How was that possible?

"Sam."

He looked up from the ground and saw that she had stopped, her eyes boring into his. "Sam, whatever it is you're going to say, just say it."

He swallowed hard. "I figured I owe you an explanation." He paused. "Amongst other things."

A little smile quirked the corners of her mouth.

"Okay, so spill."

Sam sighed. A few half-baked ideas of what to say ran through his mind, but none of them seemed quite right. He took a deep breath.

"I'm so sorry you got dragged into this, Cecilia."

She blinked, looking shocked that that had been his first thing to say. "What Dean and I do – hunting ghosts and demons and things – it's a dangerous business, especially when you're right there in the middle of a hunt. It's just way to easy to get hurt."

"Sam, I already knew that." She paused and smiled a tiny smile. "Anyway, I didn't get dragged into anything – I involved myself, remember?"

"Yeah, but there's more," Sam said. "We don't just hunt ghosts and demons and whatever. It's more than that. There's something after us, too, and that's why it's so dangerous. You have to understand that."

"Okay…" Cecilia looked slightly confused.

"Look, Cecilia, this might involve you, too."

She froze. "What?"

Sam nodded. "You're a psychic, too. Like me. And I've met other ones, too. Do –" He paused. "Is your mom alive?"

The way she stiffened set off some alarm bells in his mind. His pulse quickened.

Looking away, Cecilia nodded. There were tears in her eyes.

His eyes widened. "Cecilia, what is it?" He reached down to take her hand.

"We don't talk," Cecilia said quietly. She tried to pull her hand away, but he didn't let do. "She was totally freaked out when I told her about my dreams. Then, when Stephen died…she just…we just…"

"I get it," Sam said, recalling his long-ago fight with his dad that nearly destroyed their relationship.

"Why on earth would you ask that?" she asked him, after a moment of silence.

San hesitated, then went right to it. "This thing that's after us…it uses certain people. People with special abilities. Like you and I. There's usually a connection between all of them."

"What are you trying to say, Sam?" Cecilia asked quietly.

He shuffled his feet nervously. "I'm trying to figure out if you're one of us."

She swallowed hard, looking deeply uncomfortable. "How do you know?" she asked, after a moment.

Sam paused. "It's different each time," he told her. "Sometimes, the only connection was having premonitions. It's like I'd connect to them, only through, you know, visions. Other times, it was…"

"What?" she asked.

"My mom died in a fire when I was six months old," Sam said quickly, avoiding her gaze. "Two of the other people I met, psychics, I mean, that happened to them, too."

"That's why you asked if my mom is alive," Cecilia said, and Sam nodded, even though it wasn't a question. She turned away, staring into the distance. Then, she asked, "What do you mean, visions?" She looked back at him.

He blinked, surprised. "Um…it's when I can see the future."

She made a face. "Okay, I get that."

He couldn't help but smile. "I know. Uh…it usually starts with a headache, and then it turns into a vision."

"You see what happens? I mean, you can see _exactly_ what happens?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

She shook her head. "You're lucky."

Sam frowned and moved closer to her. "What do you mean?"

"I mean you're lucky to have the luxury of being able to know exactly what's going to happen."

Sam paused. "You don't?"

Cecilia shook her head. "I don't have _visions_," she said, and the way she said the word gave him the distinct feeling that he was jealous, "I have dreams. They're usually creepy, sometimes bloody, but they're always cryptic. It's more like I get little clues in each dream." She bit her lip. "I never even figure what's going to happen until almost right before it happens."

Sam nodded, but he didn't say anything.

"Well?" She was looking at him with that expectant look in her eyes again.

"When'd your abilities start, Cecilia?"

She frowned, thinking back. "Uh, after I graduated from high school, for sure. I think it was in my first year of college. Somewhere around there."

"So you were around nineteen or twenty," Sam reasoned. Cecilia nodded. "I believe you're psychic, but I don't think you're one of us. Nothing is really adding up." He looked straight at her. "Honestly, Cecilia, you're the lucky one."

She nodded again, chewing on her bottom lip. "Okay," she said, her voice almost breathless. "Now it's my turn to explain some things myself and ask my own questions."

Sam waited and tried to mimic her curious, expectant look, eliciting a smile from Cecilia. "Let's go back to my apartment," she said. "I have some things to show you."

* * *

I'll try next time to update sooner... 


	25. Chapter 25

This is the last chapter, guys. I'm sure you're all relieved. My updating skills have gotten steadily worse. Sorry.

But here it is, Chapter 25, Chapter-the-Last. **

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**Chapter 25 **

Dean stretched as he saw in the driver's seat of the Impala, slightly irritated that that Sam could never make anything brief, but glad to be finally out of the stupid motel room where he'd been holed up for the past week.

He was waiting outside Cecilia's apartment building, but Sam's two-minute goodbye to the girl he obviously had feelings for had turned into a fifteen minute ordeal, and counting. He considered giving Sam five more minutes to get his ass out to the car, but decided against it. It was too an opportunity to let go. He got out of the car and headed towards the apartment.

Little brother hadn't actually told him what her apartment number was, so Dean had no idea where he was going. He stopped at the desk to find out.

Finally enlightened, Dean headed up the stairs to where Cecilia lived. He didn't know what was taking Sam so long, but it was getting late. And other hunts were calling.

He knocked on the door, slightly afraid of what he would behind it. However, a moment later, the door opened. Cecilia's cheeks were flushed and her eyes were bright, but she didn't look happy. In fact, she looked almost angry.

"Hi," Dean said, stepping inside, confused. He'd had a _few_ ideas of what Sam was doing up here, but this wasn't it.

The look on Sam's face plainly said, "Could you have come at a worse time?" Dean glared back at him, not caring at all what his brother did or didn't want.

"So, what are you guys doing?" Dean asked, trying to avoid an awkward comment and failing miserably.

"We're just saying goodbye, Dean," Sam said, his voice snappish.

Dean felt slightly guilty. He'd obviously intruded on something. He didn't know what, but neither of them looked very happy.

Sam sighed. "You know what Dean and I do," he said gently. "You've seen us do it, and I've told you all about it. The way we live – it's not safe."

"I know that," Cecilia said.

_Oh dear God._ _This_ wasn't supposed to have happened. Dean thought of Sarah in New York. Now, Cecilia. Could people really fall in love within a few says of meeting each other?

Sam looked sad. "It just doesn't work that way," he said softly. "Believe me, you're better off far away from us."

Cecilia shook her head. "I can't imagine how that's even possible."

Sam's tiny smile was more like a grimace. "You just have to trust me."

She sighed. "I do trust you."

The grimace turned up almost into a smile. "We have to go now."

She turned her face away. "I'll walk you outside."

Sam sighed barely audibly, and started to head out of the room, leaving Dean and Cecilia alone. Dean glanced at her. She was wiping a tear out of her eye.

"Hey," he said awkwardly, "uh, thanks for saving my life." _Damn it! _Bad timing _and_ a corny line all in one.

"What?" She looked surprised to see that he was still there. "Oh, yeah. It's what I do."

Dean nodded and started to walk out the door, knowing she'd follow when she was ready.

"Dean, wait." He stopped at the door.

"You'll, like, watch over him, right?"

Dean frowned, confused. "Who? Sam?" She nodded. "Have since he was born." He paused. "Why?"

She hesitated before she spoke, and when she did, she didn't meet his eyes. "When we met…the first time he touched me, when he tried to help me up…"

Dean stared at her.

"I felt something." She finally looked at him. "I've never felt anything like that, Dean, please – make sure nothing happens to him. Please."

Dean felt a chill run down in spine. "What was it?" he asked hoarsely. But Cecilia was already shaking her head.

"I don't know," she said. "What, when, where, why – I don't know. But, please – just take care of him."

He nodded. She closed her eyes, too late to hide the tears welling up in her eyes.

"Come on," he said, "Sam's probably at the car by now."

The walk downstairs was silent and uncomfortable. Dean still felt cold, disturbed by what Cecilia had told him.

Sam was at the car when he got there, waiting. If he was miserable, he was masking it well.

"Bye," Cecilia said quietly, her eyes on Sam.

"Bye," he replied, the mask down for a moment. Dean tried to get into his car quietly. The door squeaked.

Dean waited until Sam was in the car, too, to start the engine. "I'm sorry, Sammy," he said.

"Not your fault."

Dean looked back at Cecilia, now standing in front of the doors to the building. Sam was gazing at her, too.

He pulled out of the parking lot, preparing for another silent ride. Sam would be miserable, and now Dean had things to worry about, too.

What was going to happen to Sam?

THE END

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Bear in mind, this is the PREQUEL to "Running Out of Time." If you read that, then you know what was gonna happen to Sam. 

Anyway, thanks to all the faithful readers! lol! I appreciate all the comments, they make my day.

I have the third in the trilogy, the last one, that takes place after "Running Out of Time." Is it worth it to post it?

Thanks,  
Caitlyn


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